The Forgotten Flame
by MaybeitsAmy
Summary: Arthur Kirkland is sent to a center in New York to help him recover from a body-image disorder, along with his anorexia and depression. He hates it, along with just about everything and everyone in the world, except for one: his loud and happy roommate Alfred Jones, whose presence Arthur does not understand. Can Alfred, along with the center's therapist, help Arthur save himself?
1. Enter

Chapter 1 - Enter

* * *

Arthur walked shyly, almost silently across the hardwood floor toward the center of the room, where everyone else was seated. He wished he were somewhere else, anywhere else. He wished he was normal instead of thin as a twig; he wished he could eat without feeling that terrible guilt...

But most of all, he wished his parents had never sent him to this place, this big, scary, hell-like place...

Well, if he was honest with himself the place really wasn't bad. It was spacious and calm, with sky-blue paint covering the walls, nice hardwood floors, large windows looking over the rest of the Center which was surrounded by green fields, and farther away a forest. The Center was in a rural area in New York, so the surroundings were quiet and calm, very relaxing. He saw a young deer run out of the forest and start to graze on the field.

He hated that deer.

He hated that field.

He hated everything about this place.

Hate. That was the only answer that made sense. His parents hated him, and that was why they just handed him a ticket, threw him onto a plane to New York and told him it was for the best, just before catapulting him away without a moment's hesitation, no consideration for his feelings.

They hated him, they wanted him out of their home. That was his final answer.

He sighed and took a seat, the last seat left. To his left there was a boy who looked about a year younger than him: no sign of self-harm, with probably early stage anorexia.

Lucky bloke.

He looked at himself, pulling the sleeves of his sweater down unconsciously, a habit that had formed years ago when he was about twelve, after his first time cutting. There weren't any new scars, he hadn't cut himself in months; though that was mostly to avoid getting sent away to some kind of self-harm center.

And of course, his parents found something else. Anorexia. Anything to get him out of the house and off their backs…

To his right, he found a surprise: another boy sitting there, not thin or sickly, eating from a bag of chips. He must have been one of the overweight patients, though, he didn't look that bad. The boy smiled broadly at him, "Hey!" He said happily. He held the bag out to him, "You want some?" He asked.

Arthur stared at the bag for a moment, as though it had come from another planet, and he shook his head slowly, "No. Thank you." He said, smiling a little at him.

The other boy just smiled, "Kay." He said. After a moment he put a hand out to him, "I'm Alfred."

"Uh…" Arthur hesitantly gave him his weak hand, which shook violently and was cold due to how thin he was. He hated it. "Nice to meet you. I'm Arthur." He mumbled. At that point a tall, handsome young man, the group therapist, made his way to the center of this circle.

The young man, who was probably about twenty-eight, looked Arthur over. The file he'd gotten about him said Arthur had done everything in the book: drugs, self-harm, and now this? And yet, there was no record of reported abuse by his parents or his three brothers, and as far as he could tell, Arthur came from a loving home...

Why else would they have spent all their money to send him there?

_He's the third son, _The young therapist thought to himself, _He probably feels ignored, lonely. Maybe he get's bullied..._

Internally he smiled a bit as he watched Alfred start to talk to him again.

"Arthur," Alfred whispered, "Are you cold?" He could tell that he was because of all the shaking. It bothered him a little.

Quiet, Arthur hesitantly nodded, looking down at his feet, wondering why he was there rather than just at home, where he belonged.

He jumped a bit when he felt someone gently drape something warm around him. A blanket?

He looked up and saw Alfred standing there, smiling down at him. He'd taken off his hoodie and draped it over his new friend, "Is that better?" he heard Alfred ask.

It was. The hoodie was thick and warm, causing Arthur to finally stop his shaking. He nodded quietly, "Y-yes, thank you." He said, giving him a ghost of a smile.

Alfred's smile widened and his bright blue eyes shone under his glasses, "No problem!" He said happily, before he sat back down. Even as he smiled though, Alfred couldn't help but be a little concerned for his new friend: Arthur's blond hair was lackluster, his emerald-eyes seemed to be in hollow caves, and he looked very tired.

Meanwhile Arthur looked at Alfred and was a bit confused: Alfred wasn't heavy at all! His body was muscular and toned and healthy! Why in the world was Alfred in a place like this?

But his thoughts were cut off as the young man sat down in the center of the group and said someone should introduce themselves.

"Castillo!" Alfred yelled, throwing up his hand, "I wanna go first!" He stood up, "I'm Alfred Jones! I looooooove French fries!" That was all he said before he sat back down, earning him a few scattered laughs, including from the therapist.

When he was through laughing the young man, Castillo, just sighed a bit, "Yes Alfred, I know. You tell us every day." He turned his gaze to Arthur, "And you are?" He asked in a gentle tone, but not so gentle as to offend.

Arthur straightened out a bit, turning red. He didn't like this, he didn't like talking to people, he didn't like having people look at him... He shrank down into his seat, "A-Arthur Kirkland." He said softly. However, he wasn't really able to feel awkward for long.

"Arthur's cool, Castillo!" Alfred half-yelled, "Can he be my new roommate?" He looked between the therapist and Arthur for a look of approval from somewhere.

Castillo smiled, "That's up to Arthur, Alfred." He said. After that he made his way over to Alfred, putting out his strong, callused hand, "Give me the chips."

For a moment Alfred froze, like his world had just crashed. But then his smile returned, a little smaller than before, "But Castillo, I'm hungry!" He whined.

The young man ignored him, smirking a bit at him as he took away the bag, "Yeah well, I'm hungry too..." He stepped back to his seat and moved on to the next patient, the one to Arthur's left, a boy named Emil.

Alfred huffed a bit, until Castillo said that since he'd already had his individual appointment with him, and would have one with Arthur later on, if Arthur agreed to be Alfred's roommate, the two of them could leave.

Hearing this, Arthur promptly stood, wanting nothing more than to just lie down for a while, "I'll be your roommate," he said, smiling a little bit at Alfred. His new friend, in turn, smiled broadly and led him outside to the sporting fields, between the housing building and the therapy building, which is where they'd left.

"You want me to show you around?" Alfred asked, "Or just go right to our room?"

Arthur was quiet for a few moments, dealing with a headache, "Can we just go to the room?" He asked quietly. He was so tired, he just wanted to sleep for a while...

"Yeah!" Alfred led him, being quiet for the most part unless he saw something worth noting, like pointing out the door to the library or to the nurse's office or to the cafeteria.

After a couple minutes they'd reached the room. It was a large room with plenty of room to walk around, two large beds, a large TV mounted on the wall with Alfred's PS3 plugged in, two desks, two closets, a bookshelf with about half the space filled.

Alfred smiled at him, "Here we are," he said, before he went and just lied down onto his bed.

"I like it," Arthur said softly. He smiled to himself and made his way over to the bookshelf: The Catcher in The Rye, Life in the Iron Mills, a collection of Shakespeare, modern works like the Gone series and work by John Green. This was great!

As he continued looking through the books he found one that caught his interest: a new looking, thin book, with one of those prize-metal shaped golden award stamps. The title: The Burnt-Out Flame, and the author: Raul Castillo, the young therapist.

_I'll certainly take note of this. _Arthur thought.

Alfred yawned, "I'm gonna take a nap," he said, before he looked over at him, "You might wanna go to your meeting with Castillo soon," he said, before he dozed off. After just a few moments he began to softly snore. Arthur looked over at him, and couldn't help but blush a bit as this handsome roommate of his slept on quietly.

Arthur sighed softly at the premise of going and talking with the counselor, but he knew it had to be done eventually. He quietly stepped outside, still wearing Alfred's hoodie, to go and find wherever the hell Castillo's office was...

* * *

End of chapter 1.

So...did you like it? Comments? Questions? Leave it in the review! :D


	2. Castillo's Office - Week 1

Chapter 2

* * *

Arthur headed towards Castillo's office, passing all the halls that he'd come across before; he'd been there once to get registered so to his surprise, he found the therapist's office in no time. Arthur made a hesitant knock on the door waiting for a response.

After a moment Castillo opened the door, and smiled a little at him, "Hey, Arthur," he said, letting him in and closing the door, "You can just sit. You want some water or anything?" He asked. He had a mini-fridge in his office that was full of water and Gatorade.

Arthur shook his head a bit, "No thank you sir, uh... Alfred told me to come see you for an individual meeting." He looked up at him, his emerald eyes a bit nervous.

"Yeah, these are just a weekly thing, you'll get used to it..." he was quiet for a few moments, finding a blank sheet in his notebook. Considering that the boy's records classified him as 'pre-suicidal' which was always scary, he decided to start small, "How are you?" He asked

Arthur shrugged, "Tired I guess." He let out a short breath and started moving his hands up and down his arms, half because he was cold and half because a part of him thought Castillo could see the scars under his sleeves. He was a bit surprised; usually when he saw a therapist back home they jumped straight to the problem, without asking how he was or anything at all.

Castillo was quiet, and waited a moment to see if the other would ask how he was in turn. He didn't. "...I'm hungry. What about you, do you wanna go down to the cafeteria?" He asked. The question was made mostly to gauge the other's reaction to see his level of aggressiveness, though Castillo kind of wished he'd say yes as he was supposed to be on his lunch hour at the moment... He sighed internally.

Arthur really didn't want to. At all. Though, he could see from his demeanor, through subtle body language that the man before him was hungry, and he felt a bit guilty. But eventually he just sighed and shook his head, "I'm not hungry at the moment... sorry..." He turned his head away feeling rather embarrassed.

Castillo shrugged and laughed softly, "that's fine, I can wait." After that he thought for a few moments before he spoke again. He scratched his head, his short black hair rustling slightly "So Arthur, tell me about yourself. What do you love?" He asked finally, his dark-grey eyes hidden behind thick glasses. He smiled at him gently.

The boy shifted a bit in his chair and thought for a few moments before responding, "I like to read and I occasionally write." He thought about if he had any other interests. He gave up after a few seconds, and he couldn't really think about what else to say, "That's pretty much all I like."

The therapist smiled gently and nodded, "Well reading and writing are always good. I like that a lot myself..." He turned toward the bookshelf near his desk, and took out a book, the title: The Burnt-Out Flame, the author: Raul Castillo. It had won an award "See?" He asked, grinning a bit to himself. "You might like it." he put it down on his desk. "Anyway, what do you hate?"

Arthur picked up the book and examined it for awhile as if he hadn't seen it before, it was a rather small book; thin and with rather large print. Ten chapters. Convenient, considering that Arthur would be there for the summer, eleven weeks. "Thank you, sir," he said softly, before thinking about the things he hated...what didn't he hate? Life, love, people... there was an entire list that could go on for miles, but Arthur just shrugged in response, "don't know," he said. That list would kill too many innocent trees.

They were quiet for a while, the young therapist sitting there trying to figure out how to go about all this, not wanting to get the 17-year-old worked up. Arthur sat there wishing he could just leave, go back to their room, sleep...

"Hmm..." Castillo clapped his hands together, "we'll try one of the classics. I'll say a word and you say the first word that comes to mind, okay?" He asked. He figured that Arthur was probably familiar with this tactic, considering all the psychologists on his file.

He was right, Arthur was familiar with it, and this never seemed to work for him. "Okay."

Castillo thought quietly of a word. An easy place to start, "Books." Better to start with something Arthur liked, to help him get into it.

Arthur thought of the first word to come across his mind when he heard books was, "Reading." He couldn't think of anything else since he just reads books, nothing more nor nothing less.

He mentally headdesked; that wasn't what he meant... "Reading." he repeated, thinking maybe he would get a new word.

"Yes..." Arthur felt lame since he knew that wasn't what he wanted to hear, but he was on the spot and that was one of the first things to come across his mind and he didn't know what else to say, "Sorry..." He quietly apologized.

Castillo couldn't help but laugh a bit, "No, no, my fault. Gotta remember to eat before I do sessions or my mind won't focus. Should'a asked something else..." he took the blame off of Arthur in order to keep away unnecessary mental strain, "New word..." he thought, "Friends." and after a moment added, "Don't say a crappy 90s TV show... it was an awesome 90s TV show...Don't say that either."

Arthur flushed in embarrassment, as he lowered his head. He started to think for the word that suits what he thought about friends, "loneliness." He supposed that suited how he felt towards such a word.

"hmm.." he nodded a little, feeling sorry for him "...parents."

Arthur sighed, " Disappointed."

He was quiet for another moment, taking notes, "Siblings."

Arthur sat there ran a hand through his lackluster blond hair, pausing for a moment,"Hate..."

Well, that was certainly a strong word. But then again, often times siblings claimed to hate one another when they didn't. Maybe they just fought a lot, or maybe they were mean to him for his depression or his eating disorder. Maybe they'd tell him how 'gay' he was, when he wasn't. Or was. Though Castillo was pretty sure it was the latter. That was just how it was for the majority of the boys there, for this reason or that.

He thought for a moment, wondering. Actually, difference in sexuality could have led to him being bullied and not having any friends. "Women."

Arthur sat there, trying to think of a word to describe them as in his opinion, "Succubus" He questioned his choice of words, but that's how he viewed most of them these days.

Succubus? ...Well that was an interesting choice. Succubus. Demon women who slept with unwitting men in their sleep. ...Well alright than. "Men."

Arthur sat there a moment before responding with a shrug, "lustful." Since he knows most men can be dogs, he was one of them, after all.

Again, an interesting answer. He now was almost positive of Arthur's sexual orientation but...that was beside the point. "Alfred."

Arthur shrugged again, "Outgoing" he said. Castillo noticed him crack a small smile

He smiled in turn, "Yeah, he certainly is," he laughed softly and thought. "Castillo" he knew Arthur couldn't have many words for him, apart from 'therapist' or 'nice' or something.

Arthur just looked up at him. He barley knew the guy, what did he expect from him? So he responded with the very first thing to come to mind, "Nice"

He grinned a bit, "I try, I try..." He was quiet for a moment, "Arthur."

Arthur looked up to meet up with Castillo's stare, seeing the reflection of a ghost version of himself in the therapist's glasses. "Yes?"

He chuckled again, "no, that's your word." he said simply.

"What? Oh..."Arthur felt his face heat up again and he looked away. He waited until he was less embarrassed before responding, "Useless..."

Castillo frowned a little and shook his head. He reached over and gently laid a hand onto his shoulder, "Friend?"

Arthur frowned, "I think friends are rather unimportant for me to have..." Arthur gently shrugged off Castillo's hand,"I'm sorry to be a bother, sir." Arthur started feeling uncomfortable for sharing his thoughts, " May I please go back to my room sir? I feel awfully tired."

Castillo frowned a little, but after a moment his smile returned, and he nodded. "You're not a bother, Arthur." He handed him the book. "Friends are worthwhile. And just so you know," he smiled a little, "All life is is a group of lessons, and no matter how much you try to avoid one, life will present it to you over and over and over until it's learned. And the lessons will never go away. As long as you breathe, lessons will be there." he nodded a bit, "you can go."

Arthur got up from his chair, "Thank you, sir, I-I'll keep that in mind." With that being said he left the office heading back to his bedroom.

At least Alfred would be waiting for him there, he had that. He smiled a little.

* * *

End of chapter 2.


	3. Resting

Chapter 3

* * *

Alfred was still asleep in their room when Arthur got back. He looked quite cute when he slept; his glasses were bent and in the wrong place, and he snored very softly. His limbs sprawled out across the bed. The sheets had fallen when he'd moved and were now on the floor, so he only had his T-shirt and jeans to keep him warm. It didn't really seem to bother him though.

After a moment of thought Arthur remembered that it was only him who was cold, and he pulled down his sleeves again. He wrapped his arms across his chest to try and warm himself to no avail, only shaking more as he felt his ribs poking out from underneath his skin.

Arthur couldn't help but stare at Alfred. He looked so calm and peaceful as he slept compared to the outgoing guy he met just a couple hours before during a group session. It was then that Arthur noticed how the other still had his glasses on. He went over to him and gently removed the glasses, seeing Alfred's handsome face without them for the first time. He smiled. He placed them onto the night stand, looking down at Alfred, unconsciously touching the other boy's hair. Soft, blond, not straw-like as his own dying hair was. It was healthy and smooth as he ran his hand gently through it.

"hm..." Alfred stirred a little before Arthur realized what he was doing, and he heading over to his new bed, hoping Alfred wouldn't notice or figure out what he was doing. It wasn't like it was bad or anything, but still. He hid himself under the covers, feeling his face flush to a dark red.

Now only half-asleep, Alfred turned to his side and opened his eyes. He was confused for a moment as he saw a lump on the other bed, before he realized it wasn't a lump, but it was Arthur.

_Is he asleep? _Alfred thought, _if he's under there for too long he won't get enough air..._

He slowly stood up and approached Arthur's bed. He thought he was asleep, so he slowly, carefully moved the sheet over so he could uncover Arthur's face in order to let him breathe. "Oh!" He blinked, surprised as he saw the other was awake, and red, and looking up at him with wide, almost frightened emerald-colored eyes. Alfred couldn't help but smile at him. "Hi."

Arthur jumped a bit, and turned to look away nervously, still red and still shivering with cold. After a few moments, he slowly turned his head toward Alfred, and gave a hesitant "H-hey."

Alfred blinked, "Are you okay? Castillo didn't scare you, did he?" He asked jokingly. After all, he hadn't done anything to embarrass him, right?

Arthur thought for a moment: Castillo hadn't 'scared' him. He made him a little nervous initially. He didn't realize his new friend was only joking and slowly shook his head, "N-no, he didn't scare me, he's a rather pleasant man to have a conversation with." Arthur placed the book Castillo gave him on the night stand, "How was your nap?"

He shrugged, "Fine..." he yawned a little. He put his glasses back on and looked over at Arthur. God, he was thin. Alfred had only seen one other person who was worse than him before. But still, he didn't want to upset him, thinking about what he should say. He looked down at his feet, and after a moment timidly said, "There's fruit in the mini-fridge if you're hungry..." He didn't know how sensitive Arthur might be, and knew there were a few boys in the group who were pre-suicidal - though he didn't really know who - so he didn't want to upset him.

He shook his head, "I'm fine thank you..." he mumbled, so softly he could barely hear it himself. He sat there a moment before realizing that he still had Alfred's hoodie on him. "Um, thank you for letting me borrow this." Arthur got up and headed towards Alfred holding out the sweater to him, "It helped a lot."

"You can keep it," He said, smiling at him. He perked up again and walked over to his closet and took out something, "Check it out! My parents gave me this as a going-away present! They said it would be good for when it gets cool out late at night." In his arms was a brown leather bomber-jacket, "When I first got here yesterday I didn't even care how hot it was, I just walked around in this baby 'til Castillo told me I was gonna pass out!"

Arthur had missed the first day of the program because of his flight, when everyone had met each other and had decided who they wanted as their roommate. It seemed odd to him: Alfred was so friendly...

Why didn't he have a roommate from the day before? And how did he seem to know already Castillo so well?

But he shook his head, pushing the thought to the back of his mind. He got up and went over to look at the jacket that Alfred was so proud of: genuine leather, black fur collar, insulated interior, "Very nice." He said, smiling up at the taller boy.

Alfred felt himself turn a bit red, though he still wasn't really sure why, "Thanks," he said, "So...if you like that hoodie and it keeps you warm, it's yours. It can be like your...new friend present." He smiled softly down at him, blushing a bit darker as he looked into his eyes. His beautiful, emerald eyes...

Alfred realized he was staring and looked away, and just said, "I'm just glad I finally have a roommate." He spoke quickly, and then turned away, going back over to his bed and sitting down. But still, something made him look back up at the other, and it was like he couldn't look away!

Arthur's once-faded blushed returned,"Yeah, me too." He said, before heading over to his bed. Arthur tugged at his sleeves before he put the hoodie back on and lied down. He felt Alfred's stare upon him.

But strangely enough, he found that he liked it.

Alfred yawned again and turned onto his back, "I think we could be good friends, and maybe we can help each other." He said, glancing over at him.

Arthur looked down, "Yeah, maybe we can." Arthur wasn't sure, not of Alfred, but of himself; he was never good with friends. "That would be nice.." He yawned slightly. He couldn't help but keep wondering what on Earth Alfred was doing there.

To Arthur's surprise, Alfred was quiet for quite a long time, not saying a word. Until finally, after what felt like hours he heard his voice again.

"Uh...Arthur?" Alfred started, "I know that you don't wanna eat, and you just drink a whole lot of water. But do you think that maybe instead of water you could try Gatorade, or something like that?" He was quiet after that. At least with Gatorade Arthur would be taking in something. It definitely wasn't going to solve any problems, but it was a good place to start.

Not wanting to begin a discussion about his eating or his calories Arthur looked away,"Y-yeah, I could try..." He said softly. It was going to be hard, not just for him, but for the both of them. It may even end up being more difficult for Alfred, since he would be the one who would have to deal with Arthur in the end. He hugged himself taking in the silence of the room. And in the back of his mind he still wondered, as he looked over at the other boy who sat there, eating an apple and reading a book from the bookshelf, what on Earth was wrong with him.

* * *

After Alfred had finished reading he went and threw the apple core away, and was surprised when he looked over and saw that Arthur was still awake. He saw him shaking and he frowned. "Are you still cold?"

Arthur, tired and with a bit of a headache, gave a small nod. Alfred smiled a bit and went to one of the dressers, taking out a few blankets and laying them over Arthur gently, "Is that better?" He asked hopefully. Arthur just nodded his head, trying to hide his red face under the blankets Alfred he went and laid back down.

For a brief moment Alfred looked out the window at the sporting fields and sighed to himself. For the next few days all he would have to do was sleep, but once Saturday came the club sports and activities would start, and he could play with the others, or cheer on his friends. Maybe tomorrow he would go and practice his batting for baseball or his kicks for soccer.

He was pulled out of his thoughts as he heard the British boy timidly say "Yes."

Alfred yawned and looked over at him, "So, Castillo was helpful?" He asked curiously.

"Hmm..." Arthur blushed a bit. No one ever really asked him how he felt, about anything... "Well, maybe not helpful, but I got a little more comfortable with him..."

Alfred nodded and closed his eyes, "Yeah. Big brother's cool like that," he yawned and turned, "He's patient, even if it takes forever..." he yawned, "I'm gonna take another nap, 'kay?"

"What?" Arthur tilted his head. Didn't Alfred just come yesterday? "Big brother? What are you talking about...?"

But by then Alfred had dozed off, snoring softly.

* * *

End of chapter 3.


	4. First Meal

Chapter 4

* * *

Alfred yawned, waking up a couple hours later. He looked at the clock that was between the two beds and got himself up. Arthur was sleeping peacefully on his own bed, looking maybe even thinner than he had just before...

Alfred sighed as he walked closer, and shook his shoulder gently, "Arthur, get up," he said through a yawn.

The other boy didn't move or say anything. Just opened his eyes and looked up at him with a blank expression. It almost frightened Alfred for a moment, before he shook it off, "Dude, come down to the cafeteria and have dinner with me!" He said, his broad smile returning.

Arthur frowned a little and hid his face under the sheet, shaking his head no. He didn't want to. He really, really didn't want to...

"But Arthur..." he pointed to the card that had been left on Arthur's desk by one of the workers, "You're a redcard! You're required to go, and Castillo's supposed to make sure you eat something."

Damn it, why did Castillo need to get involved in EVERYTHING? Why?

He groaned and sat up, "I hate Castillo," he mumbled, though he didn't really mean that. He just really, really, REALLY had no desire to eat.

For once, Alfred frowned, "Don't say that," he said earnestly, "He's the one helping us all save ourselves..." he trailed off and looked down suddenly. After a brief moment of an odd nervousness he looked back at him, "So, come on before Bro gets annoyed. You're the only redcard now, so he can't eat unless you're there." He smiled a little at him, "I'll sit with you though."

Arthur perked up a little. At least he would have Alfred with him. "Okay," he said, smiling a little.

"Awesome!" Alfred grabbed hold of Arthur's hand and led him outside into the hall, the card on his own desk, which was blue, falling to the floor. He walked quickly, practically dragging Arthur behind him. He stopped when he realized he might be hurting him, and turned around to make sure he was okay. "Sorry!" He said, his face red with embarrassment, "Are you okay?" He asked, his voice fearful for the first time. Unfortunately as he asked this Arthur fell into him, and they were locked in an embrace for about ten seconds before either of them realized exactly what had just happened.

He was dazed for a moment, and then Arthur realized it. Someone was holding him up. Someone with strong, warm arms, someone taller than him, since his head was against the other's chest and he could hear their heart beating, a slow, steady beat. Growing faster.

Meanwhile, Alfred held him nervously, feeling his heart start to race. He looked down at the thin, small, shivering boy in his arms, "A-Arthur...?"

Arthur felt himself turn a dark shade of red as he heard Alfred's voice asking if he was alright, and he snapped out of it. He quickly straightened up, "Y-yes I'm fine, Alfred. Don't worry!" He said, looking down. Despite his best efforts, though, he couldn't hide the fact that he was blushing.

But Alfred didn't seem to care. He certainly seemed to have forgotten about it by the time they'd reached the cafeteria anyway. Inside sat a number of the others, all with varying amounts and kinds of food in front of them. They all seemed content sitting with each other, talking, laughing...

Slowly getting better...

Castillo sat in the back, by himself, waiting for them. Why? Why did he need to sit with him? Why was Arthur a redcard? Now he had no choice but to eat something!

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he felt Alfred tap him on the shoulder, "I'll meet you back here," he said. He pointed to the door to their right, "You go in there," he said, "That's the weight-gain kitchen."

Arthur felt like he was going to be sick when he heard that. Choking down the desire to puke he asked, "What about you?"

"Hmm?" Alfred pointed toward the door to the left, "Weight loss."

Weight loss? But Alfred was positively fit! Arthur had only seem him eating junk food once and that was only a measly bag of chips!

And it seemed odd to him; Alfred was certainly fluent in navigating his way around the center. But he'd only been there a day longer. Maybe there had just been a tour?

He shrugged as he went through the door to the right.

* * *

The center had two separate kitchens; weight loss and weight gain. The weight loss, where Alfred had gone, focused on whole-grains and simple sugars like fruit, along with lean meat and only small amounts of sugar and salt.

Alfred got out much sooner than Arthur: on his tray he carried an apple, a sandwich on a wheat roll and a glass of low-sugar grape juice. "Sup, dude?" He asked, smiling broadly as he put his tray down and sitting next to Castillo. He put his hand out.

The young man smiled. "Where's Arthur?" He asked as they were mid high-five.

"Huh?" Alfred looked toward the door he'd sent Arthur through, "Oh, he'll just be a minute or two, I think..."

The weight gain kitchen, where Arthur had gone wasn't the polar opposite of the weight loss kitchen. It wasn't junk food - though, to be fair, it did have more desserts - simply heartier foods. There was a large focus on carbs, calcium and protein, the most important thing for people like him to get into their diet. Arthur glanced over and saw another boy, about 17 - his age - go in, looking far happier than Arthur, and piling food onto his plate contently.

What the hell? How on Earth could that boy do that?! And look so happy!

He poured himself a glass of Gatorade - knowing it would make Alfred happy - and he began to panic. He really didn't want to eat anything, let alone eat something full of carbs and calories and sugar and...and...

He sighed heavily, feeling like he was about to cry. It was only his first day, so Castillo wouldn't get mad at him, would he? Arthur simply couldn't see that...

After another minute of frantic searching he saw a container of Jell-O. That would work, right? Low sugar, low calorie, and he was eating so Castillo couldn't get mad at him, right? Right...?

He left the kitchen a moment later, Jell-O and Gatorade the only things on his tray. "Hey." He said quietly as he sat down at their table. He hid his eyes from them, feeling ashamed in himself; Arthur knew it was wrong to act the way he was, and he wished it were different, but he just couldn't bring himself to eat anything else!

Alfred smiled happily: this was more than he'd expected from Arthur. Castillo didn't really smile or frown or anything, just blank, his dark-grey eyes partially hidden behind the glare from his thick glasses.

Better than absolutely nothing, he supposed. "You're feeling alright, Arthur?" He asked quietly after a few moments. The boy nodded timidly, still not looking up at him.

And for quite a while they were all quiet, awkward. "Hey Castillo," Alfred said suddenly, "Where's Emil?"

Emil, that boy who'd been sitting next to Arthur, who looked much better than he did.

"Hospital."

Alfred choked on his drink, and even Arthur looked up at Castillo in surprise. "What?!" Alfred yelled, "Why? What happened?!"

"hmm? Oh!" Castillo laughed and shook his head, "Nothing, nothing. See when I was evaluating him today, his demeanor, his body language, his answers didn't add up to anorexia. And I think he might not be anorexic, but have Sensory Perception Disorder. I just had him sent there to have it confirmed with their psychological ward, and maybe to get a prescription if I'm right. They'll probably keep him a day or so."

The two boys were silent.

To both of the others' surprise, Arthur spoke next, "Sensory Perception Disorder...?" He looked up at the young man, "So, he's not anorexic?"

Did that mean Emil would get to leave?

"Probably not," Castillo said before taking a bite of his sandwich, "But we'll still be working with him here. He'll need a lot of help because if he does have it, he doesn't feel hungry the way you or I do, and he needs to recognize it. And I mean, this place is for all kinds of eating disorders. Not just things anorexia or obesity."

"Yeah!" Alfred said in agreement, surprisingly confident in his knowledge.

Castillo pointed to a boy, who sat with a few others, "That's Ivan," he said, "he was diagnosed with Pica when his school noticed he started to eat chalk. Turned out to be anemic with his body searching for iron and making him want to eat it. We have him on iron pills with diet counseling," to another boy, who had shoulder-length blond hair, and was sitting with two other boys who might be called 'the popular type,' "That's Francis. Lipophobia. He won't eat anything that's not fruits or vegetables, and he won't go near anything relatively unhealthy-"

"Neither do you," Alfred said, cutting him off. Arthur wondered to himself, how was this 'Lipophobia' even a problem?

"...Yes, but he literally fears it. I'll eat junk food sometimes, but if he sees it he'll panic. And if he doesn't eat something with fat in it he could suffer from protein-poisoning." he pointed to two twin boys, one of whom was the one Arthur had seen before, the one happily eating to his heart's content. The other looked annoyed and didn't have anything but a slice of pizza, "Feliciano and Lovino, food neophobia. The crippling fear of new foods..." he laughed softly, "Though, it looks like Feliciano's already over it. It was probably just Lovino all along and there was some kind of twin mentality..."

It was at that moment that Arthur realized there were no secrets in this place. Sure, Castillo wouldn't tell anyone what he was told privately, but everybody knew everybody else's problems...

How embarrassing...

By now Alfred was done eating, and Arthur was as close to done as he'd ever get. While Alfred left to get rid of their trays, Arthur decided he'd ask.

"Why is Alfred here?" He asked softly, like he were telling some big secret.

Castillo was quiet, and his eyes seemed to dart around to look at things that weren't there for a moment as he thought. "Weight loss." He said simply. But he said it very quickly, like he didn't want to say it at all.

...What the hell?!

"I'm back! You ready to go, Arthur?" Alfred asked.

Arthur got up quietly, and was surprised when he felt Alfred's warm arm drape around him. He looked up at him, confused. A dark blush spread across his face. Again.

"Let's go back." Alfred said, smiling, his sky-blue eyes smiling with him. He didn't care who saw him do it, and he didn't even know if Arthur liked it, but he went for it.

...Arthur liked it. He liked it a lot.

And for a brief moment, it was as though everyone else: Castillo, the twins, Ivan and everyone else had disappeared.

And it was only him and Alfred. Even as they walked out of the crowded room, only them.

Together.

* * *

End of chapter 4. Chapter 5 coming soon~

By the way, I'm not gonna be able to upload chapters this quickly anymore. From now on, expect them Friday nights at around Midnight Eastern Standard Time.


	5. Bad Night

Chapter 5

* * *

It was late, around 10pm, and Alfred was getting ready to go to bed. Arthur was already in bed... It was a little concerning, really. Arthur slept so much...

Well, so did Alfred. But the next day he planned on going out to the sports fields to practice. So it didn't count. But Arthur always seemed to be tired. It was pretty bad.

He went and walked over to Arthur to look at him for a moment. He was surprised to see that he was still awake, looking up at him. "Oh, hey," he said, smiling.

"Hey," Arthur said softly.

"Cold?" Alfred asked, before he went and got him another blanket from his drawer and carefully draped it over him.

Arthur smiled at him, "Thanks." He thought for a moment, "and thanks a lot for sitting with me and Castillo tonight," he said. "You don't need to if you don't want to from now on..."

"What?" Alfred asked, "I love Castillo! I was gonna sit with Big Brother anyway!" he laughed as he turned and lied down on his bed.

Arthur was quiet for a while, wondering if he should even bother to ask, "Why do you call Castillo that?" He heard himself say. There was no way that they were related at all: Alfred had blond hair, Castillo had black hair; Alfred had blue eyes, Castillo had grey-black eyes; Alfred was...well...white, and Castillo looked Hispanic. And Alfred was only there for a day longer than Arthur, so how would he even know him that well?

"What? Oh. Well, Castillo's what I wanna be like one day," he smiled a little as he thought, and crossed his arms behind his head, "He's a genius. PhD in psychology, Masters in physical education, all at just twenty-eight. Fluent in four languages, master in chess, athlete, author..." he trailed off and yawned, turning onto his side, "He's amazing."

After that Arthur was quiet, just thinking. Was Castillo really all that? How could Alfred even know all of this already?

But before he could say anything about it, Alfred was asleep again. He sighed quietly, once again taking in the room's silence.

He tried to sleep but he couldn't; his stomach hurt. After minutes turned to hours he got himself up and went into the bathroom, looking in the full-body mirror. He was horrified.

He saw a fat face where in truth his cheeks were caved in, a round stomach where in reality it was concave. He stared at himself in disgust. Why? Why couldn't he be beautiful like the other boys? Like Alfred? Or like Castillo?

Why...?

He felt as the hot tears started to form in his eyes, and he whimpered silently, miserably. Why? What was wrong with him? How much longer did he need to go hungry until he would finally look perfect...?

He didn't see the bones, or the XXXS size on his pajamas that had been provided by the center, or his concave cheeks. All he could see in the mirror was fat. Though it was nearly nonexistent, it was all he saw.

He growled under his breath and turned his glance to the sleeping boy in the other room. Alfred had made him eat that night. Maybe if he hadn't he wouldn't look so horrible now, he wouldn't look fat!

He hadn't even felt hungry in days, since his body had gotten used to going without, but now that he'd eaten...

He sighed quietly, which turned into a sob as he backed against the wall, sliding down and sitting in a fetal position, shaking a bit. He heard his stomach growl, a quiet, perpetual sound from hunger. He hated it. The hunger had gone away, he'd barely felt it anymore, and now here it was, back to haunt him again.

All because he ate...

He turned his glance toward the toilet and wondered to himself, though he knew. If he purged, than his stomach would be empty - more than empty. Maybe he would be thin if he just kept purging...

Meanwhile, as if he knew something was wrong, Alfred began to stir, tossing and turning in his sleep. He must have been having a terrible dream. Arthur felt a little bad for him, though, the thought didn't really distract him from his task at hand. He lifted the toilet seat and put his finger in his mouth...

Alfred awoke to hear the other retching and he jumped out of his bed, not even fully awake yet as he raced into the bathroom and pulled Arthur away from the toilet. He hadn't vomited yet, and he was so surprised by the other's actions that Arthur stopped entirely, looking at him.

As if he hadn't woken up until that moment Alfred blinked, shaking his head a bit, "what's going on?" He asked, holding Arthur by his shoulders.

Arthur was sitting up against the wall, and Alfred was on his knees, his eyes tired and his hair a matted mess.

Arthur stared at him in confusion, not understanding how Alfred could have known what he was doing. There was something odd about Alfred, and he didn't understand what it was. Why...? Why did Alfred wake up knowing what was happening, and then come to his aid?

It was at that moment that he realized Alfred had tears falling down his face. He was breathing heavily, looking Arthur in the eyes, his own blue eyes burning with hot tears and an agonizing sadness. Arthur couldn't move as Alfred wrapped his arms around him in a strange hug, shaking a bit.

"Please...please..." Alfred wept, repeating the word over and over, as though he were a baby that had just learned the word. He rocked back and forth gently, like he was cradling a child.

"A-Alfred?" He asked softly, looking up at him, almost a little frightened by his reaction. Arthur knew that what he was doing was bad, but Alfred made it sound as though they'd known one another since they were children.

"Please," Alfred whispered, "Don't do this to me again."

Again?!

"Alfred please le-"

"I'll call Castillo if you try this again. I'll go to the blue button above the door and call him down from his room..." He spoke in a deadly-serious tone, the tears still falling, but his eyes looking more determined, "Please, please just don't do this again..." He wrapped his arms around him again.

Arthur was so confused. What did Alfred even mean? And what button was he talking about? He hadn't seen one above the door...

But he just sighed, and leaned into the hug. His head was leaned against Alfred's chest. His heart was soft, consistent, and oddly fast... "I won't do it again, Alfred," he said softly, "I promise."

"I love you."

WHAT?

He froze, and felt his face go to a bright red. What? What did he mean? They'd known one another for less than a week and Alfred was already confessing love? Why?

"Just please, please don't do this again," Alfred said, "I'm holding you to that promise..." He stood up, carrying Arthur with him. He laid him down in bed and covered him in the blankets, and then he laid down as well, though, above the blankets. Alfred gently wrapped an arm around the other boy, both to keep him warm, and to keep him still. "Goodnight." He mumbled.

And in an instant, Alfred was asleep again.

Arthur lied there, shivering, confused, and nervous. He wondered to himself if Alfred was even truly awake, or if something in him had led him to get up in his sleep. He didn't understand anything of what Alfred was saying, and even more concerning...

Love?

Why?

Why would someone so healthy, so perfect as Alfred love someone like Arthur...? Why hadn't he told him he loved him again? Why was he so damn casual about saying it in that moment? Did he even mean it...?

But he found himself, to his surprise, smiling. And he nuzzled into Alfred's embrace, and closed his eyes.

* * *

End of chapter 5.


	6. Soccer

Chapter 6

* * *

Alfred had been trying to make Arthur eat more; dragging him down to breakfast, lunch and dinner every day during the first week. And yet Arthur seemed to have gotten worse and worse. Alfred sighed quietly as he looked over at the boy, who was laid face-down on his bed. He knew that Arthur was purging now...

Castillo could tell too. Arthur was even thinner, paler, his hair seemed to get to a dustier color. He knew the boy was fading away, and he sighed as he sat in his office, not sure exactly what he would do...

At around the same time they saw what time it was; Castillo sighed and stepped out of his office, and Alfred woke Arthur to drag him outside to the soccer field.

As Alfred walked with him, holding his hand, Arthur knew that something was weird; Alfred had never said 'I love you,' since that moment a few nights before, or done anything to stop him from purging. Did Alfred even realize when he did it? Sure, it was usually when Alfred wasn't in the room anyway, but still...

Arthur didn't dare do it at night again.

He didn't like doing it. It made his throat hurt with a burning feeling and made his stomach feel even worse, but he wasn't strong enough to stop himself. He was ashamed.

"Alfred, I don't like soccer," He muttered, sounding annoyed. He was having a lovely rest, not that he ever really got out of bed anyway, so most of his time was spent resting. He liked it when Alfred went out to play with the other boys, as it left him time to stay behind and sleep, or purge, or read or...anything, really. Though he proffered sleeping or reading of all his options.

"You don't need to play," Alfred said, smiling back at him, "I just want you to be there for support for the first game. As my friend!"

Arthur heaved a heavy sigh under his breath. God, he hated this...

They stepped outside to the playing field, where they found a crowd of other boys, some in blue T-shirts and some in orange. Alfred wore blue. Since he wasn't playing Arthur went over to the bleachers to sit down, and he saw Castillo there.

Bloody Hell. Why was that man EVERYWHERE Arthur went?

He didn't look up at him, and just sat down a few levels below. "Hello." He said softly. After trying to pretend the man wasn't there he glancing up at him, sitting up at the top of the bleachers. Castillo sat there, puffing smoke from a cigarette into the air and looking over the field, and looking at the players. He said 'Hey' quietly before he called Alfred over, and then tossed a small circular patch to him, which Alfred stuck onto his left arm before jogging back to the field. Castillo had a laptop in front of him, with headphones around his neck. Arthur thought about it, a little curious.

"What are you doing?" He asked, just loudly enough so Castillo could hear.

"Hmm?" Castillo glanced down, and smiled a little at him, "Come sit up here, I'll show you."

Hesitantly Arthur nodded and climbed up; a slow, weak climb, as though he was an old man. Castillo took note of this, but outwardly ignored it. He pointed to the screen, "I've got little heart-rate monitors connected to their arms, so that here on the screen I can make sure the boys are all okay." He said in a matter-of-fact tone. "They'll start...oh, they already started," he glanced down at them as they ran around the field, a warm-up, "and their heart-rates show up on here. Numbers and names. If anything happens there will be a bee-" he was cut off as a loud beeping started to come from the headphones, and he looked at the screen, a little alarmed for a moment.

Alfred?

He blinked, confused for a moment before he looked over. He stared, almost as though he were very confused.

Alfred was there, zooming around the field like a track star bolting across to the finish line. Castillo blinked, tilting his head a bit. Arthur looked between the two of them in confusion and anxiety.

"I've never seen Little Brother running so hard," The young man mumbled softly, smiling a little bit, "He's pushing himself." He felt a sense of pride for Alfred, though he wasn't sure why he was running like that.

Arthur asked cautiously if Alfred was okay now, and if he was going to be okay later or if anything was wrong, or if Alfred was having a heart attack, which made him even more nervous.

Castillo smiled and shook his head a bit, "Just working really hard..." He was quiet for a few moments, and then looked over at Arthur, "Do you like sports?"

Arthur was quiet, and shook his head a little. He was lying, of course. He loved cricket, soccer, Gaelic football, hurling, racing, horseback riding... He loved it all, and used to play it all the time before he developed his illness. He doubted he could do any of those things now, apart from maybe riding horses.

But they couldn't do that here. He figured it was safe to mention then, "I like to ride horses," he mumbled quietly, so quietly that he could barely hear it himself.

To his surprise the young man did hear, blowing a near-perfect ring of smoke before speaking again, "We do that," he said softly, "There's a family that owns a farm about fifteen minutes away. They have a riding area made for the boys here." he grinned a bit at him, "Once you gain a bit of weight, you and Alfred can go together."

Arthur blushed at the thought of doing that with Alfred, but frowned at the idea of gaining weight. He knew he needed to, but it was still the last thing he really wanted to do...

But he just nodded quietly, not saying a word. He looked away from Castillo and down toward the field.

* * *

The game had ended quickly as Emil had fainted in the middle of the second half - which scared everyone, especially Arthur, and had earned Emil a lecture and a bottle of Gatorade from Castillo, who had seemed oddly calm the whole time. Alfred's team had been losing and so it had been declared his loss. Regardless, though, he ran over to Arthur, tired and covered with sweat, and hugged him, saying something about how awesome he had been in the game and asking if Arthur had seen him.

Arthur pushed him away. Well, he tried to push him away but found he didn't have enough strength too. As he did this he noticed Castillo observing them and he quickly stopped and allowed Alfred to hug him - Castillo could probably tell that Arthur had been purging, couldn't he...?

_Crap, _he thought, _Now I'll actually need to eat... _But he banished the thought to the back of his mind and decided to just hug Alfred back. The taller boy reacted happily, lifting Arthur up and spinning and being...incredibly adorable, actually. Arthur found he actually liked it quite a bit. He almost wished Castillo hadn't asked Alfred to put him down, though he knew he'd get hurt if Alfred kept throwing him around like that, and he was already dizzy.

Though, he was lightheaded pretty often anyway, so it didn't bother him.

He frowned a little again as, just as every night before, Alfred dragged him into the dining hall to eat with him. Alfred got the same thing he always seemed to get - a sandwich, a salad and some sugar-free drink, and Arthur got the Gatorade and Jell-O. Only Castillo ever seemed to eat anything different. Tonight Arthur noticed the young man seemed to be watching him more closely, like he wasn't sure of him even being there. Like he could barely see him. Castillo would look over at Alfred too, but he didn't seem as concerned.

Arthur looked over at Alfred and tried to start a conversation about the soccer game, but it didn't really get anywhere. The three sat there awkwardly for about twenty minutes before Alfred and Arthur left and went back to their room.

Arthur dreaded the next day, knowing he had a new appointment with Castillo. He sighed, as he really hated the idea of talking to him again.

But he was torn away from the thought as he felt someone's hand take hold of his, and he looked up at Alfred; the taller boy was walking, looking forward, holding Arthur's hand and smiling. He had a light blush.

And at that moment Arthur realized it. And he didn't know whether he liked it or feared it...

He was starting to fall for this boy.

* * *

End of chapter 6.


	7. Castillo's Office - Week 2

Chapter 7. ...I uploaded a day early. I know. I know. I'm sorry for breaking consistency but hey, maybe there will be one tomorrow...?

* * *

It was very odd, and Arthur wasn't sure if he liked it...

It was nearly noon, and Alfred had been quiet all morning. He was sitting there at his desk, and seemed to have been working since he woke up.

Arthur wondered what he was working on...

"Alfred," He said after a few seconds, "I'll be going to Castillo's office now, okay?" He shrugged it off when Alfred didn't answer, and figured he simply hadn't heard him. He left quietly a moment later, walking slowly.

* * *

Like the week before Arthur made his way through the halls toward Castillo's office. Had it really been a week already?

He thought about it for a moment; it was Saturday, so it must have been...

He paused as his thoughts were cut off. He heard something in the distance, a constant sound, a beat. Drums? As he kept walking other instruments became audible in the hall: electric guitar, harmonica, piano, all slowly growing louder and louder as he walked. It was a slow, calm beat, and Arthur found that he liked it very much; it had an older kind of feel, though he wasn't sure whether it was meant to be rock or blues or what...

After a few moments he heard the singer; the man's voice made him think of the famous American music he'd heard in London:

_Is this a place, I can rest my poor head?  
To gather my thoughts in sweet silence?_

The voice was slow and calm, like the music. It only got louder as Arthur walked:

_And is this a place, where the feelings aren't dead?  
From an overexposure to violence?_

Arthur realized that the music came from Castillo's office as he stepped closer. To his surprise the door was open, and he stood there and listened:

_And is this a place, I can slowly face  
The only one I truly can know_

Castillo sat there at his desk, but Arthur realized that the young man had his eyes closed. Listening to the music and not realizing Arthur was there, he quietly drummed his fingers on the desk with the music, his head bobbed slowly with the beat, almost like he were falling asleep. His expression was a bit sad as the singer began again:

_These are tears, from a long time ago  
I've got these tears from a long time ago  
And I'll need to cry, thirty years or so...  
These are tears, from a long time ago..._

At that moment Castillo seemed to realize someone was there and opened his eyes. He looked surprised for a moment, and then he quickly turned the music off with the click of his mouse. He said hello and said Arthur could sit, looking a bit embarrassed.

"Sorry about that," The Castillo said quietly, laughing a little, "I didn't realize you were there, and uh...sorry about that," he repeated, grinning sheepishly, though the smile faded after a moment.

"It's fine," Arthur said quietly. He wondered if he should ask anything about the song Castillo had been listening to, but all he could say was "How are you?"

Castillo shrugged a little, "I'm uh... I'm fine." He said simply, his tone a little more somber than the days before. He smiled, but it looked a bit forced, "Kind of hungry, since you always seem to come at this hour," he chuckled blankly and his smile faded after that. He shook his head, "But this is about you! How are you?" He asked, though he knew the answer: Arthur had been purging, and he could see it.

Arthur shrugged, not really knowing what he could say, "I'm okay..." He said softly.

Castillo nodded a little at that, and reclined in his chair, "Family weekend's in two weeks," he said quietly, "Your step-father emailed me and said they'd all be coming to see you..." He figured Arthur should know about it.

Arthur stared at him for a moment, and looked down slowly as he realized it, "Oh..."

"He said your step-brothers would be coming to see you, too."

"What?" He asked, blinking. He'd thought that Kevin and Declan hated him, why would they come? They always fought when they were at home, anyway... "Why?"

"Because they love you." Castillo smiled a bit. He was quiet and thought, and looked at Arthur. If the teen didn't start eating he was going to get worse, need a hospital. "You want to be healthier when they come, don't you?"

After a moment Arthur slowly nodded. They were coming? All of them?

He felt himself smile a little.

"Why don't we talk about all of them, and then we can see how they might have partially brought about your eating disorder?" Castillo asked, smiling a little, "That way we can have a group session, and everyone can help you."

Arthur was quiet, thinking about it before he nodded, "O-okay."

"What are their names?" He asked. He spoke gently, "And when you say a name, use a word to describe them."

"Allistor," He started; his eldest brother Aliistor, who was about Castillo's age was, and in Arthur's mind the perfect son. He was tall, strong, smart, and a working success with a girlfriend he was living with. He was a little surprised Allistor would be coming, "Perfect." But he spat the word out in envy.

Castillo jotted it down next to the name.

"Owen," he said. He had to think about this brother, who was twenty-one. Owen was strong and smart like Allistor was, and he did very well. But he never needed to try and was actually very lazy. He was jealous, really. Straight As with no effort, that was Owen. "Lucky."

Arthur was quiet for a moment before saying "Peter." Oh God, Peter. Twelve years old and always bothering him. It was the one good thing about being in this place, being away from the runt. "Nuisance."

Castillo chuckled softly as he wrote that down, "That's what brothers are," he said. "Now your step brothers,"

"Kevin," he started. Eighteen. He used to be mean to Arthur, but that was probably just because he knew Arthur wouldn't fight back, and also because Arthur used to borrow his things without asking. Now that he thought about it, he himself might have been treating Peter that way... "Jerk." he kind of meant that for himself, which came out in his tone. He was sure Kevin was worse to him than he was to Peter; Kevin would hit poor Arthur sometimes, or call him a 'fag.' God, Arthur hated to be called that...

Castillo shook his head a bit as he wrote it.

"And Declan." He said simply. Only a year older than Peter, the two of them were friends. But Declan was a bit more distant toward Arthur, "Quiet."

They were silent after that for a few moments, and Castillo thought, "You get along with your parents?"

Arthur nodded, "Yes," he said, and didn't say much else. His mother loved him very much and he knew that, and his step-father loved him too. Arthur wanted to believe that they hated him and wanted him gone, but deep in the back of his mind he knew it wasn't true. He wanted to say 'They hate me' but the words wouldn't come.

"Do you want to play the classic game once more?"

Arthur nodded.

"Mother."

"Kind."

Castillo smiled, "Step-Father."

"Patient."

"Brothers."

"...annoying."

Well, that was certainly a better word than hate. Castillo laughed a little as he wrote that down. After that he was quiet and looked over at Arthur, and finally remembered that he'd been purging. He sighed quietly, "Food."

Arthur tensed up noticeably, and his voice shook, "Uh...bad."

Castillo shook his head a little, and thought. "Let's break the game for a moment," he said simply, "I would like to trust you," he said simply, "Do you think that I can trust you to eat this week? Maybe with Alfred's help?"

Arthur shrugged.

Castillo sighed and reached into his desk, and pulled out a blue card. He handed it to him. "I want to trust you." He said softly, and didn't make eye contact for a moment.

What the hell? He was giving him a blue card? So...he didn't need to sit with Castillo now?

Why would Castillo do that?

"Thank you..." Arthur mumbled, though he was still confused.

"Let's continue with the game," The young man said simply, "Women,"

"Pretty." He said softly. Well, they were, right?

Castillo wrote that. It was all odd; Arthur's outlook seemed to be improving, but physically he'd gotten worse. He'd never seen that before. "Men."

"Handsome."

"Alfred."

Arthur blushed, "Uhm...nice." He said softly, looking down nervously.

The young man smiled, "Castillo."

"Odd."

...Well alright than. "Arthur."

He was quiet, and sighed softly, "Scared." He knew that he was going into the danger zone with his weight, and he knew if he didn't get better, he would die soon. He didn't want to die, but this was so hard...

_I'm scared too, Arthur. _Castillo thought, _I'm always scared._

At that Castillo stood up and went toward his door, "I'm hungry," he said, and looked at him, "Alfred won't be coming to dinner tonight. If you go to the dining hall and eat with me now, you don't need to come later." He gave him a look, "But you need to eat something real."

Arthur straightened out nervously. He didn't want to eat, he really, really didn't want to eat...

But still, he had to be strong now...

He nodded and got up, going toward the door. He wanted to ask why Alfred wasn't going to go to dinner, but he stayed quiet.

Castillo smiled to him, and put a hand out toward him, "Friend?"

Arthur looked at the therapist's hand; a big hand, strong, callused. He looked at his own; thin, delicate, weak. He looked up at him and shook his head a little, frowning sadly, "N-not yet..." He wasn't ready to call someone his friend yet.

And after that they walked there together, and Arthur wondered why Castillo seemed more somber, and why Alfred wouldn't be going.

He wondered what was wrong.

* * *

End of chapter.


	8. Alfred's Tears

Chapter 8

* * *

Arthur made his way back to the room slowly. He'd struck a deal with Castillo: five hundred calories a day until he got used to it, along with an army of vitamins, until he was used to it and he would start eating more.

He hated himself as he stepped inside. If he were honest with himself, he'd enjoyed eating. He'd always enjoyed eating...

He wanted to go into the bathroom and purge, but he had to try and be strong now. He knew he was in more danger than ever before.

And for a while he was silent, lying down on his bed. But after a few minutes passed he looked over at Alfred and saw the boy lying there on his own bed, headphones on, laptop in front of him. Alfred was facing the wall so Arthur couldn't really see him..

But he was surprised when he heard it:

_These are tears, from a long time ago  
I've got these tears from a long time ago  
And I'll need to cry, thirty years or so  
These are tears, from a long time ago..._

The same song...? Arthur was about to say something when he realized Alfred was crying. Soft, steady little sobs as the music blared from his headphones, crying as though he'd just lost his best friend...

Arthur was quiet and just listened, not sure what was louder between the quiet crying and the blaring music. Lying there on his bed he looked over at Alfred. He was silent for what felt like hours, and the song had played on repeat at least thirty times before he got up again. He was going to try and comfort Alfred...

But as Arthur stood up Alfred seemed to realize that he wasn't in the room by himself. He sat up and, almost in one movement, sniffed, wiped his eyes and paused the music before he jumped out of bed and ran over to Arthur. He hugged him, holding him close. "Arthur!" He said, smiling down at him; his eyes were red and swollen from all the crying, the tears still escaping, "I'm sorry I didn't realize you were back! Did you eat?" He asked. His smile grew a little, "You look great! Even better than you did before!"

Arthur blushed as he realized Alfred was being serious. How could anyone think that Arthur was good looking? Especially someone as handsome as Alfred...

He also couldn't tell with Alfred. Alfred's voice and smile where genuine as he spoke, and yet the tears fell to the floor, ignored, seemed to be real too. Like he was feeling two entirely different things.

Arthur wondered how that was possible. But still, even though it frightened him a little, Alfred was smiling so nicely and holding him so gently, so careful not to hurt him... He hugged him back, burying his face into Alfred's chest. He could hear his heartbeat: steady, strong...oddly fast. And yet Alfred didn't seem nervous...

"Thank you, Alfred." He said quietly. He felt the other's strong grip grow a bit stronger, though it didn't hurt him. He liked it, and felt like Alfred was protecting him. He felt Alfred lay his head on top of his own, and felt the cool tears land on his head as they fell. Arthur just nuzzled a little closer, wanting to comfort him.

He wanted to ask what was wrong, to see if he could help. But all he could manage out was "What song were you listening to? I-I like it..."

"Huh?" Alfred blushed a little, the tears stopping for a moment before they came back. He smiled sadly as he laid his head back onto Arthur's, feeling the shorter boy's soft hair, "Thirty Years of Tears."

Arthur didn't say anything. He felt as Alfred rubbed his back gently, in slow circles. And in that moment he realized that Alfred was trying to comfort him too. He blushed.

"I like you." He mumbled softly into the other's chest. He'd barely heard it himself, but he felt Alfred tense up, growing nervous. After a few moments Alfred let go of him and sat down on his bed. He smiled at Arthur, "Thank you," he said.

Thank you?

Why 'thank you'? After Alfred had confessed love to him the other day all he had to say now was 'Thank you'? Arthur frowned a little, but sat down on Alfred's bed next to him. They were quiet, but he found that he didn't mind it. It was a little odd to see Alfred so quiet, but it wasn't uncomfortable or awkward. After a few moments he felt Alfred wrap his strong arm around him, and he blushed dark, and leaned next to him.

He felt Alfred kiss his head gently and his blush darkened even farther, and he heard himself whimper a bit, though not out of sadness. He looked up at Alfred, his eyes wide and nervous. His heart raced in his chest and he had butterflies in his stomach. After a moment he felt Alfred hugging him and lying back, taking him with him. They just lied there, nothing happening, and Arthur wasn't afraid. He felt safe in the other's arms...

"Thank you, Arthur."

"Hmm?" Arthur blinked, "For what?"

The other didn't answer and he just lied there next to him, his arms around him. And he closed his eyes, the tears no longer running from his swollen eyes. After a moment he realized Alfred had fallen asleep. ...He was probably tired from all the crying. Arthur sighed and laid there, nuzzled next to Alfred.

* * *

A few hours later Arthur had left and gone to the library, and Alfred had been acting as he usually did. But as he walked back toward their room with four books in tote, he heard a conversation happening, and then realized it was coming from his own room:

"What the hell would make you think this was alright?" A loud voice boomed angrily, "Do you want to die young? Is THAT what you want?"

"I'm sorry, bu-"

"But what?"

"But you do it..."

There was a pause, and to his horror Arthur realized that the small, timid voice was Alfred speaking.

The loud voice returned, angry as before, "What the hell does that mean?" It shouted, "That doesn't mean that you can! I swear on my life if I EVER see you with these again..." The voice was quiet, like the person was trying to compose themselves. Arthur's sense of horror only grew when he realized this voice was Castillo.

The smaller voice whimpered, "I-I just want to be like you, Big Brother..."

There was silence again. Until Castillo said, "You know its the one thing I hate about myself. So don't you ever start it..." He was quiet, "Give me your wrist."

After another moment of silence Arthur heard Castillo sigh, "Fast. You'll be having a test tomorrow anyway, so you'll be okay..." His tone was nearly apologetic now, and Arthur listened, confused, as he stood in the hallway and listened. From where he stood he couldn't see them.

"Family weekend's in two weeks," Castillo said blankly, "I thought you should know since it's not this coming weekend.."

"What?!" Alfred asked frantically, "Big brother, it needs to be this week!"

"I know, I know!" Castillo said, sounding a little annoyed again, "Not my fault that half the families couldn't make it this weekend."

"Castillooooooo-"

"Shut up!" The young man yelled. There was a final pause, "I-I'm sorry, Alfred. You know this is hard for me too, right...?" When Alfred didn't say anything Castillo just said to go to sleep, and he left the room only to run into Arthur, who looked a little scared now. Castillo was debating internally whether he should say anything, and finally just said, "Sorry to startle you." and walked away.

Arthur waited a few moments before he finally stepped inside, and he found Alfred there on his bed, crying all over again, but this time much worse. Arthur went and tried to cheer him up, but Alfred just kept crying and crying. His breath smelled bad, a bit like smoke or fire...

"Alfred," he said softly, sitting next to him, "Please don't cry..."

The tactic didn't work, and Alfred just lied there, his face buried into his pillow and sobbing still. After a few minutes of trying Arthur just pet the other boy's hair back gently, letting him cry, the touch being the only way to comfort him that he could think of.

"These are tears, from a long time ago..." What? ...He knew the song now? Well, after hearing it forty times it was natural, he supposed. "I've got these tears, from a long time ago. And I'll need to cry, thirty years or so. These are tears from a long time ago..."

He sang the chorus over and over, the only part he really knew, and just pet Alfred's hair back slowly, gently, as he sang. He sang and pet for what felt like a thousand years, until the crying finally ceased and Alfred was asleep, breathing heavily with exhaustion from all the crying.

After that, Arthur went back over to his bed. But he found that he couldn't sleep, and so he went over to the bookcase. He saw _The Burnt-Out Flame _sitting there. The book Castillo had written. He took the book out and sat on his bed, opening the book to the first page.

_In memory of Patrick Heinrick_.

That was kind of nice, in a way. It was dedicated to someone...he sighed a little as he opened to chapter 1.

* * *

End of chapter.

The song Castillo and Alfred listen to: Thirty Years of Tears by John Hiatt. Listen to it on youtube, you'll get a feel for it. Really nice song.

Also, I'll be actually writing Castillo's book and putting it up. but I'll probably upload that in the middle of the week since its not part of the main story. So if you don't want to read it you don't need to.


	9. The Burnt-Out Flame, Chapter 1

_The Burnt-Out Flame_, By Raul Castillo. Chapter One.

* * *

Sunday, October 30th, 2005

* * *

Most people call me Castillo. Or 'Cass.' And if there's one thing I hate its when my professors read my last name wrong, saying it like 'Cast-ill-o' rather than how it's meant to be said: 'Cast-y-yoh.' But that's one of the only things that I hate. Apart from that, everything's pretty cool.

Believe me, whoever you are, you have a TON to be jealous of here. I'm a straight A student and an athlete, playing basketball and baseball for my school, Gakuen University. Yeah, I know right? How the hell did I manage to get into Gakuen U? It's the best university in the world, you know.

Oh you knew...?

Sorry.

But anyway, the best part is the fact that I've got a full ride. Get to go to class, dorm, eat, and do everything around campus for free. Damn, it's awesome. I'm double-majoring too: Physical education along with psychology. Nearly a 4.0 GPA.

You're already jealous aren't you? And I haven't even gotten to the best things: Rhett and Cara.

Cara's my girlfriend, and I'm pretty sure she's actually smarter than I am. She's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen before; long black hair, and the most striking green eyes I've ever seen. She's got a figure that could stop a clock...

What, you don't believe me? Fine! See? Here's her picture.

...Told you. But that's not all that I love about her. That's not even the beginning! She laughs at my jokes and has the most awesome stories, and she can talk about anything with me...

She's like a dream come true, really. I can't imagine my life without her.

Then there's Rhett. I swear if there's anybody I was meant to be twins with, it would have been Rhett. We've been best bros since before kindergarten, he's about as smart as me (though his GPA's a little lower), plays the same sports, likes the same teams and foods and games and movies. Basically, he's the best friend you could ever ask for. Well...at least to me, 'cause he basically is me. Well...he's more...uh...white. Or I guess 'Caucasian' would be the right word... Nah, white. And his major's Secondary Education Certification for History...

Yeah my bro's a nerd.

But apart from those things, he and I are pretty much the same. He's been my best friend my entire life. But I already told you that, right?

Anyway, he's dating a girl named Elle. She's cute, but not as cute as my Cara. She's almost as cool as Cara though, I suppose...

Guess we're just lucky...

* * *

It's about 10pm now and I'm waiting for Rhett to get back. I feel real bad since his grandmother passed away on Thursday and today was the funeral. I was pretty much family, so I'm upset too, but I couldn't go to the funeral since I'm just getting over a flu. We all saw it coming, but I knew Rhett was gonna take it really hard.

I yawn and am about to fall asleep - I always get tired when I'm sick - when I hear the door bust open. It surprises me and I jump a little as I look up and see him standing there. His eyes are red and he's still wearing the black mourning suit his parents had given him. I sit up, "Hey."

"Hey," he mutters blankly as he goes and sits down on his bed.

When he doesn't say anything else I go over and sit next to him, "You okay, bro?" I ask, looking at him.

He shrugs, "I guess."

"I know it was hard for you..." I'm quiet after that, and when he doesn't say anything I just add "She's not in any pain anymore..."

I figure that maybe I can try and cheer him up tomorrow. I'm feeling better and tomorrow's Halloween, so I'll get a ton of candy... Rhett's always loved Halloween...

All he does is nod, shaking a little like he's about to break down and sob. I put an arm around him "Don't worry brother. Its okay..." I see tears falling down from his eyes, and I stay quiet after that.

He sits here and cries for what feels like a million years, but if I'm honest with myself its only been about an hour. He stops and is quiet after that, and I'm not sure what to say...

"You hungry?" I ask him. After all I don't know when he last ate. At that moment I hear a loud rumble, but to my surprise he covers his mouth and runs into the bathroom, and I hear him barfing up whatever he ate that was bad...

Great. Just peachy. Don't tell me he's in mourning AND now has a stomach flu. I ain't taking the blame for this okay? I have the NORMAL flu! Okay? Good. ...At least you know, dude.

He comes back out a moment later and looks like he's off balance. I give him a hug and he smells like a ton of cigarette smoke. He probably got sick from smoking too much... I lay him down and cover him, and I take his shoes off for him. He's exhausted, and I'm relieved he's taking the week off on sick leave...

I feel real bad. This is the first major death in Rhett's life... I've had about five already, so I remember how I'd felt. I lie down on my bed and I'm quiet.

"Raul?"

I look up at him when he says my name. Like I said nobody really uses it, and Rhett usually just calls me 'Bro' or 'Brother' or something. "Yeah?"

"You think Heaven's nice?"

I'm quiet. See, I'm going through that whole 'is there a god? Is there no god?' thing and its a bit of a pain. Really, it'd be so easy to just not need to question it, you know?

"Yeah. I'm sure its real nice." I say, not wanting to upset him. After all he knows I'm thinking about it and he doesn't need the reminder.

"She left you a letter." He says and I'm surprised, "But its in my pocket. I'll give it to you tomorrow..." I hear him yawn.

She left me one too...? But we aren't even real family... "Okay." I say. It's really all I can say.

"She left me one. She had a lot of time to write when she was in the Hospice..." he shuddered a little. I sigh.

He keeps talking, "She said to work really hard for her so she can be proud of me..." I hear him crying softly, "She said she loved me."

"Loves." I correct him, forgetting my questioning. I know she was already proud of him - after all, he'd gotten into Gakuen U! How could she not be proud. "Whole family loves you."

"I love you brother," I hear him say. I nod and say I love him too.

After that we say goodnight to each other about sixty times. I don't mind it since I know Rhett's just scared after all that, and I say goodnight every time.

After a while he grows quiet, and I figure that he's asleep.

About five minutes go by in silence.

"Raul?"

"Yeah?"

"Nothing," I hear him say, "I just wanted to be sure of you."

* * *

End of _The Burnt-Out Flame, Chapter one._

So, what do you think of Castillo's book so far? Like it? Hate it?


	10. The Terrible Beautiful Night

Chapter 9. Note: When in the nightmare(s), "Arthur/Alfred" are just...the characters... and "Little Arthur/Little Alfred" are going to be used for the younger versions of themselves. I say that just to avoid confusion.

* * *

After reading the first chapter Arthur found that he was too tired to continue reading and he laid the book down at his nightstand. He'd liked the book so far - it really seemed to be Castillo talking to him...

He yawned and laid his head down to sleep, turning the light out and closing his eye. As much as he wanted to deny it...

He was feeling better.

He smiled. Maybe they were right - maybe he could be healthy again, and eat, and be happy...

He lied there as he tried to sleep, struggling to remember what had caused his whole problem. He remembered feeling the pain for the majority of his life...

* * *

Arthur opened his eyes to see himself standing there in the driveway of his childhood home. It appeared to be late summer, and it was beautiful outside...

He smiled to himself and wondered why he was there before he saw it. It was...himself? Yes. Only, he was looking at a younger version of himself, rather than in a mirror or something.

* * *

Arthur was ten and was very happy. He was standing in his driveway, drawing with pavement-chalk. He didn't seem to take notice of the ghost of his older self. His black T-shirt was covered in neon-colored chalk and he laughed gleefully, painting a rather impressive rainbow-y mural all over the driveway.

The child stood there gazing at his work proudly, his messy blond hair and his face covered in a thin layer of colorful chalk from all his work. After a moment a smaller boy, who looked about five years of age, came running out of the house, barefoot and in a similar black T-shirt.

"Big brother big brother! Color my shirt too!" The boy said.

Arthur sighed, "Peter, did mum-"

"Color it!" The little boy whined. Peter had always wanted to copy his big brother, which Arthur had never fully understood. Who would want to be like him...?

Arthur rolled his eyes with a sigh, but then smiled as he helped the boy color in his own shirt, remembering that their mother and father weren't home. When he was done, the boy ran across the driveway and taking hold of a basketball, beginning to play with that and the net attached to the garage. This was, in turn, effectively messing up the colors and smudging up Arthur's art.

"Peter-!" He yelled, upset since all his hard work was now hurt. He sighed as the boy took the hint ran back into the house, his feet covered in chalk and likely about to destroy the carpet. And who would be blamed...?

* * *

Arthur, watching the younger version of himself, a carefree, happy child, laughed softly and looked around, remembering his childhood home. But suddenly he was pulled from his thought when he heard a shocking scream rip through his ears, and his head whipped back toward his past self:

* * *

Little Arthur stood there in horror as a bucket of water was thrown over the driveway, a teenage bully with white hair and red eyes laughing manically as he destroyed Arthur's work.

"Gilbert, go away!" He shrieked, before running up to him in an attempt to fight him off. He shouted in fear and surprise as he felt as Gilbert grabbed him by his collar and pulled him up forcefully.

In the local secondary school there were three foreign exchange students: Gilbert who came from Berlin, Francis from Paris and Antonio from Madrid. Somehow the three had become close, and then in turn had become the neighborhood bullies who were unstoppable due to excuses like 'Oh, you know, it must be hard to be so far from home.' and such.

Arthur cried he heard someone come running out toward them, and he looked up to find Owen there. He beamed up at his brother like Owen was superman about to save a poor pedestrian. Owen, who was fourteen - about the bully's age - cast his light brown eyes at his younger brother, before looking back up at the bully. The gears seemed to be turning in his mind as he tilted his head to inch his dark bangs away from his eyes to look directly at Gilbert.

"Leave my little brother alone!" Owen said sternly. Arthur beamed up at the teen. But again to his horror Gilbert just laughed and pushed Owen away.

"Yeah right!" Gilbert said, before laughing manically as he gave Arthur a wedgie. The boy cried out for someone to help him, and Owen watched anxiously as he saw Antonio appear behind the corner...

The other boy came up to them and took Arthur away from Gilbert, holding him up, the boy still dangling from his boxers. They both laughed meanly as Gilbert walked away toward the back of the house. Owen watched in confusion before he heard the hose...

After a few moments of Arthur's crying and struggling Antonio dropped him hard onto the ground as Gilbert and Francis ran back to the front yard with a garden hose, turning it on full blast toward Arthur as Antonio held him down on the pavement of the driveway. Owen got up to try and defend him but in response Gilbert went to him and started throwing punches, screaming something about Owen being a 'punk freak.'

Owen fought back, though he wasn't very strong, trying to avoid getting hit and failing, not strong enough to fight back with any effect.

By now Arthur was soaked to the bone and freezing. He kicked an punched blindly as the water filled his eyes and his nose and mouth, he struggled to get enough air in to cry out for help. He felt his head getting light, and all he could see was the top of the garage where the net hung, and the blue of the sky...

When suddenly it all stopped.

As Owen and Gilbert had stopped screaming and hitting, Antonio and Francis had stopped laughing. The water wasn't directly on Little Arthur's face anymore, rather flowing past him. He tilted his head a bit to the side and gasped for air, watching the now-liquid chalk flowing by in a river of colors.

It took him a moment to realize that the bullies were still there, and another moment to realized that a car had just pulled up...

"What the hell is going on here?" A loud, booming voice shouted. The teenage bullies all straightened out nervously, exchanging glances with one another and gulping nervously.

"Allistor," Arthur heard Owen mutter before he started coughing. He heard footsteps heading toward him and after a moment he saw the face of his eldest brother.

Red hair, his own green eyes, a scarred left cheek and a grimace stared down at Arthur, who had, based on the spiteful nineteen-year-old's facial expression, silenced all hopes of salvation. Arthur lay there, gasping for breath and sobbing, the tears falling along with the rest of the water.

He whimpered as he felt his brother's forceful hand lift him up by his collar, and he hung there.

"Getting heavy," Allistor said in a gruff, cruel-sounding voice that likely sounded worse to the child, "Stupid little fatass. Wasting your time on chalk and three-year old crap, can't even make a fist..." He looked at the three bullies and smirked at them, "You make sure you toughen this little crap up. Same goes for that one," he said, kicking Owen somewhat-lightly in the side. Still holding him, he turned Arthur's face to his own and smirked evilly.

The little boy shouted in fear as he felt himself lifted high up, higher then he'd ever want to be - and as he flew over toward the basketball net. Allistor laughed as he sat Arthur into the net, his legs sticking out and his back leaned against the wall of the garage.

"Either get yourself out of there before dinner or stay in there until mom and dad get home tonight. Your choice between being a little fatty and a little faggot."

At that Allistor left him there and went inside, and, after about an hour of struggling, Owen apologized and went inside to eat. Arthur sat there and cried - soaked, cold and hungry - wondering why everyone seemed to hate him...

When suddenly he felt the net fall out from under him.

* * *

Arthur woke up with a start and sat up, gasping for breath with his heart racing fast. He realized he was okay, and that he was still seventeen, and...safe...

He then figured out that he had screamed when he saw Alfred sitting up and looking at him. He blushed and laughed nervously, not really sure what to say... He wanted to explain the dream to Alfred, explain how the bullies had harassed him until he was fifteen and tortured him for being gay, until two of them came out themselves. And how Allistor had probably been just trying to toughen him up, and doing it wrong... But the words didn't come.

Arthur felt himself starting to cry and he tried to stop it, but he couldn't...

Despite the other's silence Alfred stood up, and went up to him slowly. For a moment Alfred turned his head back tiredly, hearing a child crying, before he realized it was all just in his head. Alfred's own past now trying to force itself from the dark corners of his mind, having woken up from his usual nightmare.

Without saying a word Alfred went to Arthur's bed and sat down under the covers, and then lied down. He nuzzled close to Arthur and laid his forehead against the other boy's. He didn't smile, but he didn't seem angry or upset. He reached up and wiped Arthur's tears, before after a long moment of hesitation gently brought Arthur's lips to his own.

Arthur blushed dark as he felt the kiss, and didn't know what to say. He didn't hesitate and he kissed back, laying a hand onto Alfred's bare chest - he hadn't realized Alfred slept shirtless. He moved his hand gently across Alfred's chest and stomach, feeling the toned muscles. Alfred smiled and nuzzled closer, holding him in his arms.

"Don't worry," Alfred whispered, "I'll protect you from the nightmares." He kissed him again.

Arthur was quiet and nodded, feeling how close their bodies were... "I-"

"Shh," Alfred cooed softly, "Don't worry. I'll just hold you." He said. "Now close your eyes," he said before he kissed him on the forehead.

Arthur didn't know how he felt, not sure if it was relief or disappointment. But he smiled - the nightmare was gone now, and now it was only him and Alfred.

* * *

End of Chapter 10


	11. Love was Talking

Chapter 11

* * *

"Hmm...?" Arthur awoke late the next morning to find Alfred standing there and changing. Changing out of the blue T-shirt he wore when he played soccer. He was practicing almost every day now that the teams had started playing so much. Baseball too. Alfred loved baseball.

"Oh, sorry," Arthur said quietly as he awoke, "I didn't mean to miss your game. You could have woken me up," he smiled at him tiredly.

Alfred laughed a little as he pulled on a black T-shirt with what looked like neon-purple paint spatters, "Nah, don't worry about it," he said, going and sitting down on the bed so he could look at Arthur. He leaned close to him and kissed his forehead, "You were tired after your bad dream." He said softly, "I wouldn't wake you."

Arthur blushed dark as Alfred kissed him, but he didn't reach up and kiss him back.

_You can't get attached, _He thought, even though he knew it was in vain, _Not with an American. You'll go back to England when this is over, and he'll stay. It's hopeless... _

Despite him, the thoughts flew away as Alfred wrapped his arms around him, and Arthur's blush only grew darker. He didn't resist him now and hugged him back, as tightly as his weak muscles could.

Alfred laid down next to him again, his arms around Arthur's waist. He looked Arthur in the eye, his smile again absent, but a gentle, thoughtful look gracing his face, "Arthur," he said softly, laying his forehead against the other boy's, "I think I..."

He trailed off and was quiet for a moment, hoping maybe Arthur would understand what he meant.

Arthur understood, and all he did was look down at the sheets, staring at them. They were blue - some awful shade of blue. Who on earth would order sheets this color...? Why not a nice red or something?

Despite his attempts to avoid it he felt Alfred's gaze on him, and he sighed softly, "Alfred, please understand. I can't do it because-"

Because he couldn't! He lived in another country, they barely knew one another (though if Arthur were honest with himself he didn't care, he knew what he needed to know), they met while in therapy together and while Arthur didn't really know he was pretty sure that wasn't a good way to start an intimate relationship. He wasn't good enough for Alfred. He wasn't healthy like Alfred - though, of course, Arthur still didn't know why Alfred was there. Alfred had a strong will while Arthur was weak. Alfred would grow to hate him...

But he was pulled from his thoughts and the small tears forming in his eyes as Alfred cut him off from speaking by kissing his lips gently.

Well...that shut him up. Arthur just stared at him for a moment, "Alfred..."

"Its been a very long time," Alfred said, smiling softly, "And during a horrible, sad time like this. This weekend and the next, for something like this to be happening to me..."

Little tears started to form in Alfred's eyes too as the new words flowed like water from his breath, "after a year of nothing, and after two years of the same pain, all this was happening. And at this time of the summer too...I can't decide if it was fitting or ironic. Or both."

Arthur stared, confused. "What do you mean? What's the matter?" He asked softly, inching a little closer to him in an attempt to comfort him, alarmed by the tears. Alfred just smiled and laid his forehead back against Arthur's.

"It's just been so long, but the chemicals are never wrong," Alfred said smiling, "You know that."

Seeing Arthur's confusion he chuckled a little, nuzzling closer to him, "Please don't get me wrong. Not any vulgar chemical, just one of love, I guess. You see I don't mind falling in love again. My heart on the line again..." He didn't know if what he was saying made any sense. He barely felt himself speak. It was like his heart was talking for him. Like love was talking.

"Alfred..."

"I like you," Alfred admitted quietly, smiling at him before he kissed him again, "And I think I'm starting to love you too. Whether in the end that's good, or bad. I don't mind."

After that they were very quiet, just holding one another. Arthur felt the blush as it sat there, his heart pounding loud in his chest, his hands shaking. He buried his face into Alfred's chest and closed his eyes, hearing the other's calm, yet oddly fast heart beating. Calmer than his own.

"But if you mind it, than I don't want to force you," Alfred said softly, petting Arthur's hair back gently. "Do you think that maybe you might be loving me too?" He looked down at him questioningly, not able to see his face.

After a long hesitation Arthur shook his head slowly, "N-no. Not yet..." He whispered, not even able to really hear it himself. But maybe that was due to all the pounding in his brain.

He was quiet, and then Alfred sighed. "Okay," he said softly, before he kissed his forehead again.

Arthur looked up at him, surprised, but Alfred just smiled, "I'll wait." He said.

So Alfred just held him there in his arms, feeling his heart beating against Arthur's - only their thin T-shirts between them, petting back his hair, kissing his forehead every now and then. He looked at Arthur and smiled at him; his eyes were closed sleepily and he was enjoying Alfred's embrace despite himself. Alfred could tell.

He was being honest and he didn't mind waiting. For Alfred, his heart breaking didn't matter anymore. For him living was easy, but life was hard. Loving was difficult, and painful. The most beautiful pain in the world. In love there was no why. In love there was no when, no how, no where.

Just there.

Just them.

What was the purpose? To make love and joy from a spark. From thunder and lightening. With smiles, with kisses, with the beautiful flames. That's all that love meant to Alfred. Love was life, and his life wouldn't be complete without it.

So for him, no matter how hard he had to work or how hard he fell, he would never stop.

Not until he felt whole again. Until that empty place in the pit of his heart was full.

They were still quiet for what felt like forever. A nice forever. "Arthur?" Alfred asked finally, "What does your heart want?"

"Hmm?"

"does your heart care for me?" Alfred asked softly, smiling, "Just follow your heart and your instinct. Even in the end if it doesn't work, you'll know you did the right thing." He wasn't exactly sure what he meant by that, but he knew that he meant it.

"My heart and my instinct?" Arthur asked, looking at him a bit skeptically despite the blush.

"Yeah!" Alfred said happily, "What is it that will make you happy?"

"Will make me happy...?"

_To see you happy, Alfred. That will make me happy..._

At that thought Arthur stood up. A part of him didn't want to ask this at all, but he would be happy in the end, because Alfred would be happy. And it was for the best...

Arthur put a hand out to him to help him up, "Come on Alfred," he said, smiling at him, "Let's go to the cafeteria and get something to eat."

And as Alfred happily got up, walking with him to the cafeteria, Arthur was half elated and half miserable.

_Just keep going, Arthur, _Arthur thought to himself, _Soon doing this will make both of you happy. And life will be good again..._

He pushed away all the doubt and all the fear from the back of his mind. He had to get better. For Alfred, for Castillo, for his family...

For himself.

And as that thought came to him he looped Alfred's hand into his own as they walked.

* * *

End of Chapter 11


	12. Paper Flowers

Chapter 12 NOTE: I apologize for skipping last week. I had a lot going on and wasn't able to get to it.

* * *

The two of them spent the night in the same bed again. Nothing happened of course, and both were content with that. Arthur had fallen asleep in the larger boy's arms, his face buried in his chest, hearing his heart beat its quick, steady beat, his chest rising and falling slowly, his gentle snoring.

He hadn't had any nightmares that night.

They repeated this process for the entire week up until Friday. Arthur was slowly putting on a bit of weight, which Alfred never failed to praise and compliment. As much as he hated to admit it...

Maybe, just maybe, he _was_ looking better.

He was certainly feeling better, and Castillo was even allowing him to play as catcher for Alfred's baseball team, having Alfred pitch to him. Castillo had promised that if Arthur kept eating up until family weekend, he could go horseback riding with Alfred, at that local farm, all on their own.

Arthur smiled to himself as he looked in the mirror and seeing his thin cheeks slowly starting to fill in. Alfred always complimented him. Every day...

But something had confused him: Castillo had handed him a red card. Did he somehow stop trusting him again...?

"It doesn't matter," Arthur said, thinking aloud, "Alfred loves him anyway. so we would have sat with him."

He looked at the empty bed they'd slept in and wondered where Alfred was. He'd been gone since Arthur had first woken up, at around ten.

After a moment of thought he simply shrugged it off, thinking Alfred was probably practicing for soccer or baseball. "I think I'll go to the library," he said to himself.

As he made his way toward the door he noticed something: it was just above the doorframe. Like a secret...

He had to stand on his tiptoes to see what it was: a button. A tiny blue button that was stuck in the wall, like an emergency signal...

_'I'll call Castillo if you try this again. I'll go to the blue button above the door and call him down from his room...'_

The words rang in Arthur's ears as though Alfred were there, saying it to him. So that was what he meant...?

"I...I suppose it's good to know about..." He said softly, a little unsettled by the realization, though he didn't know why.

* * *

Arthur returned about an hour later with a new stack of books to read. To his surprise he found Alfred back in the room, but didn't get a chance to look at him until he placed the large stack down on his desk.

When he did look over at Alfred he was surprised; the other boy must have gone to the art room as he had large piles of blue, green, orange and red papers.

Alfred didn't look up at him or even seem to realize that Arthur was standing there staring at him. His eyes were red with tears pouring out, though his facial expression seemed normal. He was silently, delicately folding up the blue and orange papers into rose-like paper flowers, and smiling a little. He patiently glued each on to a rolled-up end of each green stem, looking at each flower as he finished them, inspecting them as though to make sure they were perfect. From Alfred's laptop, the familiar song played softly:

_These are tears, from a long time ago  
I've got these tears, from a long time ago  
And I'll need to cry, thirty years or so  
These are tears, from a long time ago..._

"Your favorite colors," Alfred said aloud, almost barely audible above John Hiatt's singing. Arthur looked at him with a confused look, before realizing it wasn't him that Alfred was speaking to.

The red papers remained unused as he made a bouquet from the paper flowers and stems, "Castillo can't remember Patrick's favorite color, so I suppose I'll just use yours. Please don't feel like you aren't special to me now..." He looked closely at the flower as he spoke, twirling it slowly in his hand. "Big brother's been worried about me lately, you know." He said, "I've been thinking more and more about you every day."

By now Arthur, despite his confusion and odd feeling of fear, remained standing there, watching the other young man silently.

_Alfred, _He thought to himself, _what in the world happened to you? _He felt the small frown forming on his face, his brows knitting together nervously, his heard starting to get a bit faster. He didn't know why he was getting so...anxious, as though he were about to break down and cry.

There was an odd feeling rushing through him.

Power.

Power? Yes, some kind of a power. Like if he pointed himself out or tried to stop Alfred he would be destroying something, making something inside him snap. And he didn't know if it was a good idea to do that or not. He didn't know what it would break.

Would it break through the grief or through the tears?

Would it break Alfred's heart even more...?

"I know you didn't mean to leave me, Locke." Alfred said, again just barely audible, "you...you didn't mean to take all of them, did you?" He was quiet, laughing softly in a grim laugh as he twirled the little paper flower, a blue one, "No, of course not. You were happy with me, I think..."

They were silent for a few minutes and in that time Arthur could feel the sadness in the room being absorbed by his own body, feeling an urge to cry, and feeling the little drops of water starting to well up from deep inside...

"Big brother says it might have been an accident, but maybe not... but you wouldn't do that to me, would you Locke?" He was quiet, sniffled a bit before he smiled, "I met someone new recently. After all this time." He smiled a little wider, "His name is Arthur..."

Arthur gasped silently and felt a dark blush wash over him. Alfred was talking about him...?

"He's a lot like you," Alfred said, "He doesn't look like you or sound like you, but the way he acts, the way he laughs, the way he moves all I can remember is you. And I wonder if you sent him to me..."

They were silent. And a heavy weight threw itself at Arthur's heart.

Arthur frowned a little to himself. If Alfred liked him, was it only as a replacement for this 'Locke' guy? Was Arthur just the second-best?

"But I don't think you did."

Arthur blinked with surprise.

"You wouldn't have sent me someone, Locke. You didn't love me the way that I loved you..." He sighed softly as he twirled the little flower, "Still love you..."

So that was it? Alfred was still in love with this 'Locke'? Arthur sighed softly, before making his way silently back out the door. He would leave Alfred alone for a while and let him think, and do some thinking for himself...

"But as much as I still love you," Alfred said, having not noticed Arthur, buried in all his thoughts, "I love him too. And I will not fail him like I failed you." He smiled a little to himself, kissing the rose, "hopefully he will become the star of my life, as you refused to be in the end..."

* * *

Arthur sat there in the hall, curled up in a ball, the tears starting to fall down from his eyes quietly. Didn't Alfred care about him? Not his 'Locke' fellow? Or for both of them...?

Was Arthur only a replacement? Like a new toy or game a kid got when they were bored?

He felt so worthless all of a sudden! Like he didn't matter to Alfred at all! Only this 'Locke' Mattered to him! What the hell kind of a name was that, anyway?!

He gritted his teeth, almost hearing them crack in his ears. His eyes burned and his chest heaved, his stomach lurched as though he were about to be sick.

Is that why Alfred was so good to him? He was a replacement that he needed to be more careful with?!

He didn't know whether he should feel angry or embarrassed, sad or jealous. He felt all of it, this awful feeling in the pit of his stomach, like he'd eaten rocks and they were weighing him down... Maybe this whole thing was a bad idea...

He sat there for hours in that secluded area of the hallway, not keeping track of time, not seeing anyone pass by, not wanting help or questions from anyone, just wanting to sit there...

"Arthur?"

His eyes shot open and he looked up in surprise. Before him stood another boy, about his own age. The other boy looked concerned, his golden-colored eyes seemed almost as sad as Arthur's own eyes.

"Oh, hey," Arthur said softly, "F-Feliciano, right?"

The other boy nodded quietly and put a hand down to him to help him up, "Would you like to come to dinner with me and my twin brother Lovino? He needs to sit with Castillo from now on..." He said softly.

Dinner?

Oh, right. Alfred probably wouldn't be going, would he?

Lovino needed to sit with the therapist too? Arthur smiled a little at that - at least he wasn't alone. Two red-carders...

And now Feliciano would be there too! Two healthy blue-carders and two unhealthy red-carders, right?

"Okay!" Arthur said, wiping away his tears. He followed Feliciano down the hall toward the cafeteria, trying to push his sadness to the back of his mind.

To pursue his health, along with his new friend.

* * *

End of Chapter 12. And no, this is in no way going to turn into an ArthurxFeliciano kind of thing. Not happening, just in case you were worried. But if you like that pairing...I dunno, write me a fanfiction about this fanfiction.


	13. Confusion

Chapter 13

* * *

"Alfred decided he was going to skip eating tonight?" Castillo asked when Arthur sat down, along with Feliciano and Lovino. To his surprise, the young therapist seemed rather concerned, his eyes seeming to flicker as though a light bulb had gone off in his head.

After a moment Arthur shook his head carefully, not understanding why Castillo cared so much. But after that the young man was quiet, and they ate. Arthur had gotten a sandwich - his first one since he'd arrived there, and he thought to himself that he should be proud of himself. With each bite he took his sense of pride grew a bit, though he didn't know if he liked it.

It wasn't until after a few minutes that he realized Lovino wasn't eating and only had a glass of thick, brown liquid - like a chocolate milkshake - in front of him. Feliciano watched in concern as his twin slouched over the table wearily, occasionally spewing out some curse words or shooting Castillo the evil eye.

Feliciano would make a face and blush in embarrassment when Lovino would start yelling, whether it be at him, Castillo, or no one at all. He looked a bit upset.

Meanwhile Castillo didn't seem fazed at all, sitting there, sipping his drink. "Lovino, you know how this works." He would say on occasion.

After a few minutes of this, not understanding the behavior of those around him, Arthur finally asked, "Uh...what's going on?"

"None of your business, bastard!" The more aggressive twin half-yelled, hostile. Arthur recoiled at that and looked away. God, how could Feliciano be so friendly and have a twin so...? Harsh? Yes, that was the word.

Feliciano sighed softly, "Lovino's going through starvation therapy." He said softly.

Starvation therapy.

Starvation therapy?

"B-but..." Arthur turned and looked at the therapist, "Mister Castillo, why are you using that kind of therapy on him?" He asked with an earnest seriousness. He'd been starving himself for so long, and he was almost offended that the therapist who'd been helping him to stop was apparently now starving someone else.

The young man was quiet for a moment, his arms folded across his chest as he looked at Lovino, smiling a little. He shook his head a bit before he turned to Arthur, his grey eyes failing to hide behind his glasses, "Lovino isn't starving," he said, "That's really just what the treatment is called. What happens is-"

"GOD DAMN IT!" Lovino yelled furiously, "IT'S BAD ENOUGH TO TELL HIM ABOUT IT, BUT YOU'RE NOT GOING TO IN FRONT OF MY FACE!" At that he took the glass and, after a moment of hesitation, chugged the drink as quickly as he could. He made a look of disgust, but it quickly faded away, and he almost looked confused.

"Well?" Castillo asked.

There was a long pause.

"I...uh...I like chocolate I guess..." Lovino said softly, his eyes flickering a bit, "...BUT I STILL HATE YOU!" he yelled before he turned to storm out, Castillo yelling something about Lovino going to the medical ward for them to make sure he was alright.

Once Lovino had left his twin sighed in relief, "He's okay, isn't he Castillo?" He asked softly, looking upset. Feliciano seemed to be very sensitive, and Arthur didn't know if he found that to be a good thing or a bad one...

Castillo nodded, "He'll be fine." After that he turned and looked at Arthur, "Starvation treatment. It was developed in this rehabilitation hospital in Graz, Austria not too long ago. Since Lovino won't eat anything apart from - what? Tomatoes and Pizza? We simply take those away so that he has no choice but to eat something else. We start him off small by only making him drink a milkshake first. That's the third one he's had today, so he's getting his calories. But he's very hungry." He said, "The point is just to make him try something knew. He isn't _really _starving."

"Oh..." Arthur felt a bit like a fool now. Of course Castillo wouldn't permanently inflict something like that onto someone, would he? He seemed like the type to try and treat people the way he wanted to treat himself, so he'd never want anyone to starve.

"He'll be alright," Castillo said softly, like he knew what Arthur was thinking.

After a while, Feliciano finished and said goodbye, making his way back to his room and leaving the two of them there. Castillo had finished eating long before but didn't seem to mind waiting for Arthur. "I'll walk you back to your room." He said as Arthur got up.

The two of them walked down the quiet, almost disturbingly silent hall. It seemed so much bigger than it was when no one was speaking or walking by. It had almost no sign of life apart from the two of them.

"So, did Alfred say why he wasn't coming here tonight?"

Arthur froze as he heard the question, having not thought of mentioning what had happened. "Uh...well, to be honest with you something seemed a bit off today, with Alfred, I mean." He said, "He was in our room, cutting out paper flowers and talking aloud to someone, like he was saying his thoughts."

At that Castillo became very serious, his eyes seeming to grow darker for a moment. "Is that so?" He asked. When Arthur nodded he sighed heavily, "Do me a favor and get the nurse. Tell her to come to your room. Then go somewhere, the library, the art room, the music room, my office, wherever." He said, "Just not in your room. I'll find you when it's alright for you to come back."

As the young man turned to walk away Arthur felt an odd burst of confidence, and he reached out and grabbed the young man by his arm, holding him back, "What's wrong?" He asked seriously, growing afraid. "Is Alfred dangerous?" He asked. When he didn't receive an answer he gripped Castillo's sleeve, "Is that why he didn't initially have a roommate?" If he had been put into a room with a dangerous boy, a dangerous boy he'd begun to fall _in love with, _Arthur didn't know how he would handle that. If he could at all.

Castillo pulled away from him, and bent down a bit to be on Arthur's eye level, "I can't legally or ethically tell you anything. Confidentiality." He said. It was different in Lovino's case, because everyone knew what was wrong with everyone and what their treatments were - it had to be that way. But with one-on-one therapy was strictly confidential.

Arthur lowered his eyes, and nodded a bit.

"But,"

He looked back up.

"Alfred would never hurt you on purpose. Little Brother wouldn't hurt anyone on purpose."

As he spoke Castillo grinned a bit at Arthur and pat him on the shoulder before he turned and almost ran down the hall toward their room urgently, calling behind him for Arthur to get one of the nurses.

* * *

Arthur had. And after bringing her there he stood outside quietly, trying to listen in and see what was going on. Initially he didn't hear much, Castillo's voice calmly saying something to Alfred, something about a promise, when suddenly Alfred began to shout and it sounded like he was struggling to get away. There was some kind of a beeping sound, followed by the click of a tab-box opening, and then only more shouts filled Arthur's ears.

And at that he turned and ran.

* * *

He'd found refuge in Castillo's office, the only room that didn't have anyone inside. He sat in his usual seat and turned the light on, looking around for a moment. Bookshelf, poster on the wall, little globe on the desk, along with one of those little ball-string things that went tap-tap-tap back and forth, back and forth... He saw one case of water bottles and a case of Gatorade next to a tiny fridge. He went over and took one of the Gatorades, the grape kind, hoping that maybe it would help him calm down a bit.

But he didn't calm down.

He sat there for at least an hour bawling his eyes out before he finally stopped. What was going on? What was wrong with Alfred and why were they shouting and struggling so much? Was there even anything that Arthur could do...?

He got up and began to pace around anxiously, wanting to scream but not doing it. He found himself on the other side of Castillo's desk. He sat there in his chair, opening the top drawer.

...God, this man was the great genius Castillo? In the top drawer of his desk were a slinky, a yoyo, a paddleball and a comic book. The comic book was a picture of a hooded man holding a gun, standing in the snow with a red background. It read ASSASSIN'S CREED, THE FALL, issue No. 1.

To Arthur's surprise under the book he found three photographs, that looked like they'd been taken over a period of about ten years; one was a recent one - Castillo, a woman who Arthur assumed was his wife, and three young boys. For such a young man he certainly had started his life early. The children were no older than four, the youngest boy only a toddler. The back of the photo read _Castillo Family, September 2012._

The second one had a picture of another Castillo - a bit younger, standing next to a young woman with an arm around her waist. Another young man with dark hair and an experimental-looking goatee was in a similar pose with another young woman. The back of this one read _Raul and Cara, Rhett and Elle. Night before graduation, 2006._

The second photo was of a young Castillo - dressed in baggy jeans and a T-shirt ten sizes too big, and with too much hair gel, standing next to another man, about his age. The other man was shorter, wearing a similar, though tighter outfit, his dark hair obviously bleached, the black-brown hair showing underneath. But it looked oddly nice. Both young men with cigarettes in their mouths, trying to look like twins. The back read _Raul and Rhett, Freshmen year at GU, 2002._

Arthur had been right. Ten years apart. So that was Castillo at 18 and again at 22, and again at 28. Wait...

Rhett?

That wasn't how Arthur had pictured Rhett at all. He pictured him thinner, with a different face and different hair. He shrugged it off, figuring Castillo had changed a few things for the sake of the book.

It was then that he remembered the book, turning back toward the shelf. He grabbed the book and went back to sit down at the desk.

He opened it up to chapter 2, hoping it would help calm him down.

* * *

End of Chapter 13. Chapter 2 of _The Burnt-Out Flame _coming tomorrow.


	14. The Burnt-Out Flame, Chapter 2

_The Burnt-Out Flame_, By Raul Castillo. Chapter Two.

* * *

Monday, October 31, 2005

* * *

The alarm goes off and I feel like I've only slept for five minutes. Seven AM. God, this 8:30 classes are a real bitch.

I see Rhett on his side of the room laying a pillow over his head in annoyance as I turn the alarm off, "You aren't going to class, remember?" I remind him. He's quiet and doesn't move after that.

I walk into the hallway of our suite and go into my room to get my things. Rhett and I share a suite and usually sleep in different rooms, but after what happened I thought maybe he wouldn't want to be alone. We both have an extra bed in our room anyway, so for now, we're sharing a room. Joy.

You might be thinking, 'Raul, what's bad about that? You and Rhett are like brothers!' Well you know what, sometimes brothers annoy one another. Why do you think we didn't opt to sleep in the same room to begin with? After a while I annoy him and he annoys me. Maybe it really is because we're so similar.

...Yeah...I'd get annoyed with me after a while. Makes sense.

But then, this is for the best... Hopefully.

I get dressed, admire how great I look in the mirror, text Cara 'come 2 brekfst', get my backpack and walk back to Rhett's room, "Wanna get breakfast?" I ask, despite the fact that he's still in bed. He waves his hand in a "get the hell out" kind of way and I feel a bit bad. Thank God he won't be going to class for the week, I don't think he'd be able to handle it.

I get a text back from Cara that says 'yea rite lol'

...Well alright then. No breakfast for you, Cara. Weird, she's never said no before.

"See you later, bro," I go over to the door and as I'm about to open it I realize something. Why is the door handle so cold...?

...Ohhhhh...Now I see why Cara said no.

"WHAT THE HELL? I HATE YOU WATERTOWN!" I yell to no-one, before realizing that it's seven thirty in the morning and back into the hallway. Snow. Snow EVERYWHERE. Randomly God, if I were back in Long Island it would be a nice warm sixty-five degrees right now! Who the hell came up with the idea to put Gakuen on the New York-Canada border?!

...Well, I guess it is a good place for an international school but...the point is it's too cold here. I hate cold.

I go back into Rhett's room to my laptop to check my school email. Please let class be canceled, please let class be canceled...

...Class is canceled, time for bed.

* * *

I don't wake up until about ten thirty, and Rhett is still in bed. Only it looks like he hasn't moved. At all.

I get up and go over to him, and a shake him by the shoulder gently, "Bro, wake up."

But he's already awake. He turns and looks at him, red-eyed, miserable. "What?" He asks in a shaky voice.

"Shit, man, did you even sleep last night?"

He shakes his head, and I sigh and sit on the end of his bed. "I know it's very difficult for you," I say softly, "But you need to get up, even if just for a little while. Come have breakfast with me." I offer. I figure he's probably starving since he hasn't eaten, but he just shakes his head.

"I'm not hungry," he says blankly, laying his head back down. And I don't really know what to say.

"But...but you'll get sick." I say finally.

"Who cares?"

At that I'm quiet, not knowing what else to say or do. I get up and get my coat from my room, and step outside to brave this freakish, apocalypse storm. Yep, just normal Monday weather. Welcome to Watertown, New York, where it snows...all the time. Literally.

* * *

I eat alone, which is a pain in the ass, but at least I was able to buy him a box of Reece's.

I know what you're thinking, 'Raul, it's a bad idea to encourage your roommate slash best friend to eat his feelings.' Well you know what? Today is Halloween. Our entire life Rhett's loved Halloween and damn it, whether he eats his feelings or not, he's having a Halloween.

I go back to my room and find him there again. "You plan on getting up any time soon?" I ask, trying to sound normal.

"Leave me alone, Raul." He says, and looks up at me, "in case you haven't realized, my grandmother is dead."

I sigh heavily as he says it, "I know." I say gently. Now don't get me wrong, I cared a lot about her too. I've practically been a part of Rhett's family since we were little. Hell, if I could have I would have taken sick leave, but 'my best friend's grandmother died' is apparently not a good enough excuse to not go to class.

But to be honest, I probably wouldn't take the days off if I could. Rhett's having a hard time and I need to be strong for him. Like how a brother would be.

That's what we are, after all.

...What the hell? Don't make Hispanic jokes about how we're different colors, you're not Hispanic! ...Unless you are...in which case...I don't know where I was going with that. Does that even make sense? Does anything make sense? Does life make sense? Am I a fish - where is this conversation going?

You know what, never mind.

Anyway, I go into my room and kind of just hang out there. I don't have anything to do or anywhere to go. I checked Facebook, sent a few emails, watched TV, played some video games, did some homework...

But even after all that, only a few hours have gone by. I lie here on my bed, staring at the ceiling. Well, this sucks. Cara can't even come over because of all the snow, and she lives on the other side of campus.

"Brother?"

I look up in surprise at the door and see him standing there. He changed out of his suit to a pair of old sweatpants and a T-shirt, his eyes are red and swollen, he hasn't shaved and he looks...disheveled, I guess is the right word.

"Yeah?"

"Got a smoke?"

"What? Oh," I turn and look at the pack of cigarettes on my nightstand and toss it to him, and he turns and walks out, closing my door behind him.

...It's weird. It's 4:15. Been almost an hour now, and he hasn't brought back my pack yet. He probably forgot. I get up and go to his room, but he isn't there.

What the hell? Where does he have to go? Where does anyone have to go in this weather?!

I turn toward the front door and open it, "Rhett, what the hell are you doing?!"

He's standing there, the snow piling up over his dark hair and his shoulders, still in just the T-shirt and sweatpants. He's got a cigarette in his mouth, a little pile of cigarette butts at his feet.

He looks pale as hell and he's not shaking anymore, like his body quit trying or something. I grab him by his arm and force him into the hall, taking the cigarette and throwing it to the snow. He drops the...once full...box of cigarettes to the floor, two of the twenty cigarettes remaining.

"What the hell were you thinking?" I ask harshly, holding back every desire to smack him across the face. He's very pale and once he comes into the warmth he starts to shiver violently.

"I...I..." after a moment of silence his eyes flicker and he cringes in pain, curling up, "It burns!"

"what burns?" I ask.

"EVERYTHING!" He screams in pain. A result from being out in the bitter cold, "Damn it Raul, why couldn't you just leave me out there to die?"

My heart skips a beat.

I know he doesn't really mean that, but still...

* * *

He's sitting in my room now, shaking like a leaf and in every sweatshirt he has. I ask him if he's eaten anything and he shakes his head, and I offer him the Reece's. He eats one, but after a few moments I hear another rumbling sound and he's running to the bathroom to throw up again.

He needs to quit smoking so much all at once...he used to throw up after just two cigarettes in a row, back in high school...

How could he get so resistant to them so fast...?

Rhett comes back a few minutes later holding an envelope in his hand, "This was for you," he says, before he lies down on the spare bed. I lay down and open the letter from his grandmother:

_My Little Darling Raul,_

_I am sorry to hear that you've come down with the flu! I hope you feel better soon. Try some tea with honey and lemon, that should help you stop coughing._

Even as she laid dying she was thinking about other people. I wonder what I would be thinking about...

_I want you to know that I'm very proud of you. I hope you know that I consider you as much my grandson as Rhett, or Andrew, or Kyle, or any of the others. Be sure to study hard, work hard, stay active, be kind, generous, and try to remember me._

_Please keep an eye on Rhett for me. He's taking it so hard no matter what I say to him. He cries nearly every time he visits._

I sigh at that, knowing it was true.

_I'm sorry I can't write much more. I'm very tired, dear, I know you'll understand. I love you very much, darling. I'll tell your grandparents and your uncle Manuel you said hello, and send back their love too._

_Love,_

_Grandma Bea._

I sighed heavily and want to sob. Why had I gotten sick and been unable to say goodbye...? I know its not normal to be so loving to someone outside of the family, but...

"Rhett?" I ask.

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

He doesn't answer.

* * *

End of _The Burnt-Out Flame, Chapter Two_

Next chapter will be regular story, maybe up tomorrow, maybe not.


	15. Together

Chapter 14

* * *

Arthur put the book away, sighing softly. The book was annoying him - how did Castillo not see what was going on? Was he some kind of an idiot? And why was Rhett so depressed...? Arthur had lost a grandparent before, but he doubted that anything so extreme would come of it...

But then, he supposed that most people would think the same of him. Arthur wasn't even sure exactly what had happened to him to begin with.

He really didn't have much right to judge Castillo, he supposed - no one would ever expect their best friend to spontaneously develop an eating disorder, right?

Was it even spontaneous? Or had it always been coming, even since Arthur had been a child...?

He sighed, starting to get a headache. He looked at the little clock on Castillo's desk and saw it was after nine. Should he go back to the room? Or stay put?

...No. Castillo had told him to wait. And either way, he didn't want to know what had happened. He yawned softly, hoping that Alfred was alright...

_What if something's happened? _He thought to himself, _What if he's hurt? What if he's hurt someone else...?_

He shook his head, "No!" He thought aloud, trying to calm himself down, "Don't think about that. Everything is alright..." he sighed softly, trying to relax.

He'd had therapists in the past, before Castillo, who had taught him something called Cognitive Behavioral Therapy that was meant to help him stay calm.

_Breathe in, _he thought, taking a deep breath, _everything is alright. Breathe out, _he let out a slow puff of air, _Alfred is safe..._

_Breathe in, everything is alright. Breathe out, Alfred is safe..._

_Breathe in, everything is alright..._

_Breathe out...Alfred is...safe..._

_Breathe in..._

* * *

"Alfred!"

Arthur awoke with a start in the same room, still sitting in Castillo's office. The small lamp on the therapist's desk was still lit and the door was wide open, more light filling in from outside. A window was open, letting in the cool night air.

He was surprised to see Castillo sitting there.

Given that Arthur was seated at the desk, the young man sat in the chair that the teen usually took. He had his arms folded across his chest, his glasses sat on the desk. His eyes were closed as though he were asleep, but he was sat straight up in his usual proud, but not conceited kind of way.

"Castillo...?"

The therapist opened his eyes at that, having waited to hear his name. His eyes were red, and he looked very tired. "Are you alright, Arthur?" He asked quietly. He waited a few moments before adding, "It's nearly three in the morning. I came back here looking for you but I'd found you talking in your sleep. I didn't want to wake you in case you said anything important is all. You know, about Alfred..." he trailed off, and sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair. "I'm sorry you needed to go through all of that."

Arthur blinked and was quiet, looking at him. He'd waited all this time for Arthur to wake up...? Even though it meant he couldn't go to sleep himself?

For a moment, it felt kind of nice that Castillo had let him be. But then he felt a bit angry and stood up. "Alright, now you listen to me, Castillo," he said in an unusually harsh tone, glaring at the man who sat before him, "I want to know exactly what is wrong with Alfred. I want to know what had happened and why Alfred is here in the first place, he doesn't even seem to have an eating disorder!" He half-yelled, banging his fist on the desk, "Is he dangerous? Why is he here? How did he know you before all of this and who the bloody hell is Locke?!" He blushed a bit as the last question came out, not having intended to ask it.

At that Arthur just stood there for a moment, realizing his outburst. "I-I'm sorry, Castillo." He said, sitting back down in his chair, "I just..."

"It's alright," The young man said, smiling gently at Arthur as he put his glasses back on. "None of this is your fault, it's okay to be angry or scared or sad, or all three..." he sighed and rested his head in his hands, "And I hate that I can't tell you anything, but everything Alfred and I speak about privately in session, the things that you want to know, I can't legally disclose."

Arthur looked down miserably. What was he supposed to do...? What could he do, what could he even say if Alfred were as unstable as this all had made him seem...?

Castillo stood, "Here," he held a tiny paper packet with something in it, "The nurse gave me this sleeping pill for you. She said you should take it once you were being walked back to your room..." he sighed softly.

He took it, looking at him, "You're allowed to give this to me?"

The man shrugged a bit, "Well...yeah. Your parents signed the waiver signing over all medicinal power to us. Besides, it's only that Z-quil stuff. Not really something that could hurt you compared to a prescription..." he sighed again as he thought, "Uh...your beds are still together. Do you want me to help you separate them?"

Noticing Arthur's momentary look of horror Castillo put his hands up gently, "No, no, Alfred's alright. He's in bed now, I just didn't know if you wanted to sleep close to him or not."

Arthur blushed, "It-it's not...we aren't doing anything..."

"I know."

"What?" He blinked stupidly. How did Castillo know? Was it that obvious that nothing sexual was between him and Alfred? Was Alfred telling Castillo about him and Arthur? But he didn't ask, and simply took the pill from him, removing it from its tiny paper packaging, which had the pill's name, Zzzquil, printed in on it. He swallowed it and stood up, leaving the room with Castillo.

* * *

"I'll tell you what I can tell you, and not what I doubt Alfred would want you to know. But anything else you'll need to get from Alfred. Or from me in his presence and with his permission."

"Huh?" Arthur turned his sleepy attention to the young man, and nodded a bit.

The therapist nodded in turn, and was quiet for a moment, in thought, "Well..." he started, "I used to be a teacher, about three years ago. I was a teacher in the school that Alfred attended when he was fourteen as a freshman, a gym teacher."

Arthur remembered Alfred telling him; Castillo was certified as a therapist and as a physical education teacher as well. All at such a young age...

"I'd actually been finishing my last couple of years of studying psychology when I was teaching there." He shrugged, "It was a crappy school to be honest, but it put me through my classes and sent my twin boys to daycare. They were barely two at the time and my wife was pregnant so...well, that doesn't matter. I can't tell you what happened to Alfred or a lot about why he's here. He doesn't like for people to know. He doesn't like to be pitied."

That surprised Arthur. But...everyone knew the others' problems there, didn't they?

"So you were his teacher..."

"Yeah. Kind of."

Kind of?!

Castillo yawned a bit, "Anyway, listen Arthur. I know what you saw today. I know that it frightened you." He said softly, looking at him, smiling gently. He saw that at those words Arthur began to cry, and Castillo sighed a bit and hugged him, trying to calm him down.

Arthur clung to the man, burying his face into his shirt. He didn't have any feeling for him - at least not in the way that he did for Alfred - Castillo was like...well...what he'd always wished Allistor was...

Arthur sniffled, "You're...you're like a brother..." he didn't know why he was saying it. Perhaps it was because this man - apart from Alfred of course - was one of the few to ever get through to him. Maybe it was because no one had ever held him, and told him it was alright. Maybe he was afraid he'd make the man uncomfortable...

"I know." He repeated, smiling softly. The smile faded as he let go of Arthur, "I need you to listen to me, though," he said earnestly, holding the boy by his shoulders, "That blue button above your door is there for a reason. It's a trigger that will set off an alarm on my phone if it's pressed. I need you to promise me that if something is wrong, if there's an emergency of some kind. If Alfred acts that way again..." he sighed and shook his head a bit, "I need you to press it without hesitation."

"B-but-"

"He has a medical condition." He said abruptly. "Let's just leave it at that, okay...? Talk to Alfred about it. I'm sorry..." He wanted to tell him, he really did. But ethically, and legally if he did... "Go to sleep." He said gently, patting him on the back, "Everything will be alright..."

And at that Arthur realized that they were standing in front of his room. He was very drowsy from the Zzzquil now. "R-right.." he said softly, nodding a slow, disappointed kind of nod before he stepped in, closing the door behind him.

* * *

Arthur stood there in the dark room, looking as Alfred laid there, unmoving, "Alfred...?" He asked, taking a slow step closer.

Eventually he made his way over to his side of the bed, and looked at him, and was almost a little afraid.

Alfred was there, asleep, though he seemed to be almost trying to open his eyes...

"Oh..."

_They've sedated him, _Arthur thought sadly _so much that he can't even move..._

Well, he could move a bit, but not enough to get up and walk around or get up and hug Arthur. Arthur didn't realize that Alfred was only asleep, and having a dream. A deep sleep, one that was almost impossible to be woken up from.

"Shh..." Arthur cooed gently as he laid down next to him, hearing a small whimper from Alfred, not realizing that the teen was having a nightmare.

* * *

The young man sighed as he puffed a little cloud of smoke from his lungs and into the air. He was leaning from the window in his own bedroom, looking through his phone, reading and re-reading texts sent from his wife:

_-cnt wait to see you Friday fo famly weeknd. The boys miss you_

_-Rhetts coming with the fam, wanted to know if Teia could come too_

_-Put the cigarette down_

He chuckled lightly at that last one. "Put the cigarette down...yeah right, Cara..." he said, taking a huff of smoke, "Nice try though..." he sighed softly, missing her and his family, along with Rhett and his, dearly. It was the one thing he hated about this job. Off nine months a year, making three-hundred thousand, scenic area. But it couldn't all be perfect...no family for the whole summer. Apart from the family weekend, of course. It was lonely, but he was always surprised by just how many families would come and take their boys away for the weekend to the city and to the hotels...

Well, all but one or two families...

He sighed as he sent back a text:

_-Kno its late. See you next Friday. Love you. _He sighed again, kissing the screen of the phone lightly, as if hoping the sentimentality might be transferred.

_I suppose I should go to sleep, _He thought to himself, looking at the time on his phone. Nearly three thirty...

He sighed heavily as he looked at the little blue icon at the corner of the screen, like he was waiting for it to flash and for the phone to beep...

* * *

"Shh..." Arthur repeated again, inching a bit closer to Alfred. He didn't know that the boy was asleep. He thought he was awake - awake and upset. Even so, as he inched closer and gently took hold of Alfred's arm, draping it gently over himself, Alfred did seem to calm down.

And there they were, together. Arthur was a little scared... A little scared, worried, sad for Alfred.

But still, that didn't stop him from lying there next to him...

He loved him.

As much as he'd been trying to deny it. He loved Alfred. He reached up gently, rubbing his hand gently across Alfred's cheek, "I don't know what happened to you," he said softly, "I don't know what you ate, or what you didn't eat, or where you went or why you did whatever you did. But I love you, Alfred," he whispered gently. Alfred was calming down, despite being asleep, which made Arthur feel a bit better.

He yawned softly as he spoke, "I won't leave you," he said softly, "I'll fight this for you. I'll try and eat for you. I'll stay for you..." He leaned in a bit closer to him. "There's nothing you could ever do, that would make me love you less..."

He nuzzled into Alfred's chest, "there's nothing you can ever do that would make me love you less," he repeated, saying it, again and again. Until he fell asleep. And there they were.

Together.

* * *

End of chapter.

Okay so...I hope that was alright. By the way I hope that you all understand that I don't have any real-life experience with dealing with this kind of thing, and most of my psychology information on this I get from online. So if any of you have experienced anorexia or something along those lines and are all like 'that's not how it works...' ...I'm sorry. I know...I just don't have much to go off of. Trying my best. Hope you liked this chapter.


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